Fear
by Kreigen
Summary: Partner fic to "Relatively Simple" - written in character from Jenny Flint's POV. Will cover her perspective on the events of "Relatively Simple" such as their meeting and her deaths on Trenzalore, and their first kiss.
1. Prologue

**A/N - welcome to my new fic! I started writing this over a year ago and have only just unearthed the paper I wrote it on because I moved house. I've just entered a new phase of appreciation for this couple so here it is.**

**Please be patient with me! I'm trying to write this as Jenny and it isn't easy adapting my writing style as I naturally write in very wordy/intellectual prose which I think would be OOC, so it's a pleasant challenge :-) - writing as Vastra was a lot more intuitive for me!**

**I hope you enjoy this short prologue and I am working on the rest!**

* * *

My name is Jenny Flint, nice to meet you.

Although I prefer just to be called Jenny, if you don't mind. The surname just reminds me of family, you know? Just the usual rubbish, before you start asking! Take it from me it ain't worth talking about anymore. To be blunt, let's just say their philosophy of "live and let live" didn't apply to their own daughter. But I'll be beggared if I live in misery just to please them.

Anyway, I've already spoke about it more than I wanted to.

So, back to the introductions….forget it, you can call me what you bleedin' like, as long as you don't call me flippin' "ordinary"!

Shorter than average, pale but dark featured, and with a mean stare reserved only for 'special occasions' – yeah, I guess that just about sums me up looks-wise. The other half tells me I am beautiful, and forgive me for saying it, but I don't get tired of hearing it.

Happily married, part-time maid, part-time detective's assistant…I guess you can say I get around a lot. I don't much like sitting around, would have made a terrible housewife, and that is all anyone really expected to me once I'd managed to make it out of childhood without being snapped up by a deadly disease. That in itself was a small miracle in our community.

The only people who saw anything more in me than a simple match girl are the family that I have found; my household and all the beautiful extended people that come with it. They only expected of me to be the best of all I could be, and then they offered their hands to help me get there.

Really this all started with a hand, funnily enough.

You know what? Of all the stories I could tell, perhaps that one could be tipped as my favourite.

So let me, if you care to, drop all this funny talk and give you a proper tale. I mean, I like to think I am rather different to your usual Victorian girl, and trust me, if you want a story; I've got plenty to boot.

After all, what is 'ordinary' 'bout a girl with a wife (yes _wife_ not husband, thank you very much) who happens to be from an ancient lizard race? Or a girl who has time travelled and fights wrongdoing both in and out of her own time with the company of her wife and their alien butler? Or a girl who runs around wielding ancient swords, having the most fun in her life? Also, did I mention that I happened to have died twice?

No answer? Didn't think so.


	2. The Hand

Her hand is green.

Funny, really – that out of all the things I could have chosen to notice, I chose the hand. Typical me, oblivious to all the caper around me for one small thing that grabs my fancy! S'pose that is why I ended up in such a pickle in the first place.

I was a street beggar. Spat on day by day, kicked into the dust until my chest couldn't much stand it anymore. Once I had been a match girl, a simple existence but better than this by a long chalk. Those days were almost forgotten to me now, I had to forget them, or else I would only be reminded of just how bleedin' dead I was to my family. Oh I had made a right mess of everything! All because…oh what does it matter why? You ain't interested in my self-pity.

The men had thought I was a whore. I wasn't that desperate….yet. I knew it would only be days before hunger sorted that out good and proper. I was weaker than a babe, so pale I wondered if I had already died and turned to the spirits, and clothed so barely I was practically naked. Strips of dried blood stained my feet through my rotten shoes. Never mind how thin I had become, you could barely tell me apart from a child I was so flippin' small! I'd been avoiding selling my body for as long as I possibly could, the idea was rotten to me for more than one reason. Not that I hadn't had plenty of offers, but this time they had turned right dark when I had turned them down.

"I ain't for sale, jog on" I had snapped when they approached. Their eyes made them look like one of those fighting dogs that I used to watch the lads rile up when I was younger, you could imagine the fangs hanging out of their mouths. I could read blue murder in those hungry eyes before they had got within an arm's reach. My heart was beating like a tin monkey as they laughed at my protests. I'm ashamed to say that part of me thought that, if this was going to happen, I may as well get a few bob for it. But my life-long pride, which had got me into trouble more than once before, would not allow it. My Father had always taught all his children to "go down fighting", and though it smarted to think of him, I knew he had been right about that, at least.

There were three of them, all cut from the same ugly mould. Short, squat legs, slightly stocky, huge hands…a brief idea entered my mind that I might be able to out-run them, but a quick glace around only gave me dirty brickwork in every direction. The only way out was straight into their rough arms, which looked thick as my legs. Stupid girl! I had been wandering down here looking for food, but I was normally more careful than to trap myself.

"Very funny darlin'" the largest man walked forward towards me, his wiry beard stretched from the evil grin across his face, "Who said we were gonna pay yeh?"

It was now that I realised just how much danger I was in. I had been so afraid since I was thrown out; the hunger, fear, and wretchedness was now normal. I knew this was trouble because I could feel it again; that cold feeling in the base of my stomach, like swallowing a handful of snow. Something really bad was about to happen, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

The two other men huddled closer and chuckled along with the man, copying him. 'You and your quick tongue Jenny!' I scolded myself, although I weren't sure I'd really made it any worse. Typical. I'd been homeless but three days and already I had managed to get myself killed. Part of me had known this was the only ending to this shambles that I still called my 'life'. If I had just shut my mouth back all those days ago…

"You know you want it missy…" he leered.

I certainly did not!

The largest man had cocked his bushy eyebrow and lunged for me while I was busy daydreaming. Now, I don't know about you, but where I grew up you don't get too far if you can't throw a good punch. I had just about enough energy left in me for one. 'My last act as a free woman' I thought, 'Better make it count'.

I had the advantage of surprise. The man didn't think I had any fight left in me, and why would he? I looked like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards and then back again multiple times, whilst being starved, if you'll pardon my expression. So as he threw himself forwarded, undefended, to pin me down, I threw myself forward, fist first, with all the strength I had left inside my failing body.

The hit was direct, a great jab (if I do say so myself). His nose cracked awfully loudly under my fingers, Father would have been proud of me (if he hasn't disowned me). Blood spurted out of the wound covering his face and making him look even more ghoulish than before, if that were possible. I almost smiled I was so pleased with myself, but I quickly paid for my mistake when the man reached for his pocket, swift as a cat, and lashed out with a pocket knife. Even a common girl like me weren't fast enough to dodge it completely, and it cut a nasty line under my eye. The gash was like a candle flame running along my skin. I fell backwards, still on my feet, but reaching for the wall. Cornered. That was it! I would be fondly remembered as the girl who broke a man's nose before she were raped and murdered. I guess it could have been worse.

"Think you're clever eh sweetheart?" the man growled through moaning at his broken nose, "Well we are going to make you pay for that little mistake"

Congratulations Jenny, you had one chance and even then, you managed to frig things up even more.

I arched my back defensively, putting on a brave face but knowing the game was up once they got hold of me.

"Unhand her!"

I was so surprised to hear a voice, and a proper voice at that, that I dropped my guard for a second. It was a woman, a fancy woman by the sounds of things. I could see a glimpse of her at the opening to the alleyway. She was veiled, well dressed, tall…I shook my head in disbelief, what in the good lord's name was someone like that doing here?!

While I was busy gawping the large man had succeeded in grabbing my tightly by the throat. His grip was tight, firm. He could snap the thing in one clench. I tried to stay still so he wouldn't need to push any more, but already I was fighting for air. The men started to laugh again.

"Another bleedin' woman who thinks she knows better!" shouted one of the other men apart from the one who was trying to hang me with his hands. I coughed despite my best efforts and he squeezed a little warning to me.

"Shu'rrup Bill" the strangling man replied, "There will be more to go around…".

I could not understand why a woman of her statute was going to such a bother to intervene in what was, in my world, a fairly common thing. Women were attacked all the time on the streets, noblemen and women just kept their toes out of it and held their fancy cloths over their faces. In fact, I had never seen a high class man or lady in this part of town to this day! Having said that, if she could get me out of this mess…I wouldn't be harping on about it to her afterwards.

Just as this though crossed my mind, it all started happening.

Before I could see what was happening, I had been released, and dropped to the floor right on my behind. I looked up and saw (let's just keep the specifics brief cause it turns my guts to think about it again) my attacker flung across the alleyway, dead, his throat ripped out.

I was just dealing with this and trying not to throw up when I head a snarl that sounded something like a mad dog mixed with hell. I looked up and saw the woman…roaring at the other men! They had up and scarpered faster than you could count to three, and I don't blame them. Whatever she was, it wasn't anything I had ever seen before. I just stared up, hands planted to the floor, waiting for her to turn around. I couldn't do anything to escape now, so my future lay entirely in the judgement of a devil-woman in fine dress wear. Funnily enough, this wasn't all that comforting. But she had just saved my life, so I tried to not judge her before she had done anything to hurt me. So far I had come to no harm by her.

She turned, and my god what I saw stole the breath right out of my like a demon, and not necessarily in a bad way. She was…unbelievable. Covered in scales like she belonged in some foreign land. Human-shaped I guess, but with spikes where her hair should be, and no nose. As I rudely watched her, she held her hand out to me.

Her hand is green. I thought. Scrap that, she is green all over – not just the hand!

As I took it, it felt so cold and smooth to the touch, it wasn't a nasty feeling. Actually it felt good to hold her hand. I brushed this thought off as I made my way onto my unsteady legs.

I tried to pat myself down in my shameful state and regained my footing, despite the fact I fell as if I may give in to a faint at any moment. 'Don't show weakness now' I thought to myself 'You ain't out of this yet'. I took my strength and willed it to my neck to look up at her, and mark her dead in the eye.

The eyes...that was when I knew I was in trouble. They were so beautiful, like the gems of a fine princess, I could barely bring myself to tear my gaze from them. I very quickly felt an old fear strike me once more; the fear of my own longings. It didn't take long for that old chestnut to flare up again _did it_?! All this hassle I had brought upon myself, all the hardship and cruelty had all been for moments like this, and here was me thinking being kicked out of my family home would have been enough to knock some sense into me. The fact remained that I had sacrificed everything because I was unable to deal with, amongst other things, a striking pair of blue eyes.

I quickly broke my trance and forced myself to speak, to not give myself away so easily once more. For heaven's sake Jenny you just met the woman, and she's green and looks like she climbed out of the Thames! Is it really time to be farting around with your weakness? I couldn't believe myself sometimes, honestly. Meanwhile, the woman was looking at me with a strange mix of pity and respect. The one thing I didn't need was any pity from some upper class woman. The pride began to claw its way out from my belly again.

"Cor blimey Miss!" I half-shouted, "You're a little bit diff'runt ain't you?"

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I could have slapped myself! Could I have been ruder if I tried? Crikey I know you are supposed to be an uneducated, penniless urchin Jenny but do you really have to act up to it?

The woman's expression stayed the same, which worried me even more. She just took a deep breath and replied.

"My name is Vastra, and I am a descendant of an ancient lizard race which once inhabited this Earth millions of years ago."

There was so much about that sentence that confused me that in my weakened state I just couldn't be bothered to question it.

"Right…well if you say so" was all I could come up with.

"I was awakened by your ape builders as they extended your underground transportation network"

'Ape?' I thought to myself, 'What is she going on about?! What had monkeys got to do with the underground?'

I started to think the woman might be, not _all there_. But I could see she was about to let me live so I played along with it.

"Well, that does seem awf'ly rude of them"

The conversation stopped and we just looked at each other. Either we had completely got the wrong end of each other's sticks, or one of us was due a trip to the mad house. It didn't much matter to me anymore, providing I got out of here with my life and my dignity. Her appearance didn't fuss me so much as her completely weird way of speaking. I knew the higher classes had some, _strange_ ways, but this took it to another level.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, suddenly.

"Not much, no less than I'm used to Miss" this was a horrible lie, and I was sure she would know this, but I wasn't exactly going to start crying on her like she was my Mother was I? Although, she was being much kinder to me than my real Mother in this moment.

"And…" her eyes seemed to falter, just for a moment, "You're not…afraid of me?"

This one got me in the heartstrings, I have to admit. The woman had risked her own life to save me without a care and was scared I would be frightened of her because she was…whatever she was. I was far more frightened of the human men she had chased away, and they were far more unattractive than her. They didn't have those eyes after all-

_Stop it Jenny._

"If you'll beg my pardon Miss, but you weren't the one trying to rob me of my maidenhood were you?"

This time, I meant what I said.

She nodded calmly.

"Well, won't do me any good standing round here any longer I suppose!" I sighed, wanting to leave before any more trouble came my way, and before I gave away something I would regret, "Thanks Ma'am" I smiled at her, grateful my life had been given one more wretched day, even if I had nothing to live for, "I guess I may see you around; you're not exactly easy to miss, are ya?"

Was that hope in my voice? No time to tell. I started to make for the exit.

"Goodbye…" I heard her speak, reluctantly.

"Jenny" I called back over my shoulder and saw her face filled with sadness as I walked away, "Jenny Flint"

Why had I told her my full name? She hadn't asked for it, but truth be told I wanted to. I slowed my pace slightly. Sod that, why was I walking away? Maybe the kind lady could help me. She had looked like she didn't want me to leave. Something inside me began to feel as if it was being yanked backwards, like some children's toy on a piece of string. I slowed even more, and if I hadn't done that, what happened next probably wouldn't have happened, and if that had been so you'd have probably have found me dead in the gutter by the end of the week.

What happened was the biggest crack on the head I had received in my life.

Then the world went black.


	3. Lifeline

Gotcha attention? I bloody well hope so! If that ain't enough to grab your notice then I don't rather know what is! Having said that, I suppose there's more exciting tales to come than that. It's a habit you pick up from the streets; doing your favourite thing first when you have the chance. The longer you wait, the closer the time when it will be stolen from you. Enough of that anyway.

See, like I said to you, that story was my favourite. After all, it was the day I met Madame Vastra, and you can't do much better than that can you?

I suppose I should explain to you what happened net, not fair to leave you without an ending is it?

* * *

When I awoke I had such an almighty headache it felt like the parish bells were ringing between my eyes. It only took a small tap on my head to confirm I had taken a right knock. I took my careless fingers away and right about then I regained enough sense to realise I did not know where in God's name I was. I opened my eyes slowly and took a quick glace around, and what I saw nearly made me black out again from shock.

I was indoors. That alone was enough to put my thoughts in a right jumble, but that wasn't everything. I was in a _fancy_ room; everything in here looked far too dear for me to even be looking at it! Rugs on the floor with lavish patterns and not flea bitten at the edges, pictures hanging on the wall with gilded frames, clocks and decorations that I could never have afforded in a lifetime, and the space! The room was so big and uncrowded, and I got the feeling this was only one of many rooms. I was even fearful of damaging the thing I was lying on; what was it?! I twisted my head and was quickly punished with a strengthening of my headache and regretted moving. But I could see that I was on a long, posh looking seat, done up all pretty and very comfortable. I could only wonder at what good fortune had landed me here!

It was then a new feeling hit me; I wasn't cold, actually I was verging on feeling hot – which had only ever happened to me before when I had been sickly as a child. There was beautiful warmth everywhere, and by Jesus it was better than anything I could imagine. Only a large open fire could have made such a great heat, and I quickly saw that it was dancing in the corner of my eye. I turned my head, much slower this time, and I saw the orange glow of a strong fire set in a fireplace that was probably worth more than all the houses on the street I grew up on put together. Then I saw her, sat directly in front of the fire, staring at me.

The green woman.

"You awaken" she spoke.

Now, as an aside, I hasten to add that at this point, the best Madame could muster towards me was something closer to forced caring than genuine fondness. You have to remember that I was the first human she had ever struck up a conversation with. But she were never mean, never cruel...maybe a little insensitive, but not on purpose. But I did not know what she were gonna be like at the time, so I decided to be a bit street-wise around her. She had now saved me twice, but what for? Did she need me for something?

"How…." I coughed suddenly - my throat was so dry from lack of clean water. Once I started to heave I was caught in a fit, and unable to stop.

"Would you care for some tea?"

Tea! Of all the things! Maybe I had never really woken up after all. After the night's events though, I suppose being offered tea in a fine lady's house was not all that fanciful.

I nodded, unable to speak, and she rose to pour me a cup from the fine set that lay on a crafted tea table in the middle of the room. The china was so dandy; back where I grew up they'd hang you for having such a thing, for they'd have knew you'd nicked it! Her dress was a beautiful black thing, lace trim and layers of cloth that shifted with her body. As she slowly held me up a cup and saucer to me, with its little flowery edges, I was embarrassed to be seen by her in my dirty, disgraceful state. Nevertheless, I still pulled myself up to take it. I was truly starving.

"Thanks…Miss…" I coughed, before taking some of the drink down. I'll tell you what; it was the best tasting thing I have ever drank. After days with no proper food or water, it felt like I had gulped back happiness itself. The warm feeling spread down my aching chest to settle in my empty belly, sitting there alone with nothing else.

The woman kept watching me. Growing up I had learnt to trust my instincts; being on the street does that to you. But with her, it was like looking at a blank chalkboard; she was just an empty black space. I couldn't fathom her, but I had some vague feeling that I had a chance here that I wouldn't want to pass me by. She just kept gazing on with those still blue eyes and strange green scales, like a statue who had just decided to start breathing one day.

Looking back, I suspect Madame didn't know how to start a conversation with a human.

'So' I thought, 'Jenny it's up to you now'

"Beggin' your pardon Miss?"

I would have said she raised her eyebrows, except she didn't have any.

"Go on, human"

"Well I thank you for your kindness Miss, though the Lord knows I don't deserve it" I was careful to sound grateful, being homeless didn't mean I had to lose my manners, "But what am I doin' in this big ol' fine house?"

"This is my place of residence" the woman spoke, flatly, "I returned here with you after we escaped"

'Well thanks, I had worked that one out myself!' I thought to myself. I could now see how difficult this was going to be.

"Yes, thank you Miss" 'Patience, Jenny' I heard my own voice chide me in my mind, "But how?"

The woman sighed, and finally showed a bit more emotion that a piece of stone. But I gained a sense that she didn't think I was going to understand or believe what she had to say.

"You were cranially damaged by one of those brute apes. I helped to retrieve you with the aid of an old friend who provided our means of escape."

There she went again, harping on about "apes". This time though, I wanted answers.

"Apes?"

She sighed again, patience clearly flagging already.

"Surely you realise that your race is descended through millions of years of gradual evolution and natural selection, ultimately back to the great apes?"

She may as well have been speaking friggin' French for what I understood!

"Evo-what?" I blurted out.

"You are not familiar with the term?" her face changed again, this time to surprise.

"Miss, I was taught what the Bible says – God created humans"

"And how did this "God" go about this?" she quickly asked.

'Well I'll be' I thought 'As if I know?!'

"Pardon me Miss, but I didn't write it"

"And yet you trust it, believe it? You didn't find the facts out for yourself, you didn't write the book, and yet you take its every word as fact?"

I looked at her open-mouthed. I'd never heard anyone speak blasphemy so freely!

"The whole human race in your land believes the words of one book when they have access to thousands" she continued, hissing (hissing!) loudly and pacing the room, "See this is the problem I have with ape society, how can you ever hope to progress and attain your potential when the majority of your race cannot even seem to think critically?"

I just stared, I must say. I didn't have an answer to all her words, but I have to admit part of me was fascinated by them. Not wanting to expose how uneducated I was any further, I did a trick taught to me by my brother, I changed the subject.

"So, if you don't like us so much, why am _I_ still 'ere?"

She snapped her head back to me away from the point in the wall she had been ranting at.

"Isn't it obvious?"

I had to stop myself spitting the tea out onto the expensive floor. For the first time in days I wanted to laugh.

"What is funny female ape?" she growled, now all flustered, "You are in my protection. I have rescued you and you have no other place of abode. Am I to just cast you back out onto the streets to be defiled by your violent contemporaries? I have intervened and taken you in to my residence, and now it is my honourable obligation to provide you with aid. You are now my responsibility."

Without thinking, I was about to protest, as I wasn't about to become a sodding charity case for anyone's sake. She must have read it in my face though, because before I could speak she raised a scaly hand.

"Human please hold your pride for just a moment and let me finish."

"Don't you-"

"I'm offering you employment" she cut me off.

I was struck silent as the grave.

I could only think that I must have misheard her.

"Y'what?"

"I'm offering you employment, if you will take it"

A job. The only work I had ever known was hawking matches, and even then I'd lost that. I was sure she was toying with me, but the stern turn on her face suggested otherwise. We fell into silence, and only the spit of the flames reminded me of where we were. I wanted to speak, to respond to her, but all I found was a pesky knot on my throat, pressing against the skin and blocking all the words. I wasn't stupid; I could see that this could save my life, but what was the catch? I'd never been offered nothing good without a price at the end of it.

"As…what?" I stammered.

"I am unaccustomed to the cultural normalities of your race"

I must have looked as if someone had slapped me, because she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"What would a normal job be?" she rephrased.

I sometimes forget, now that I have seen a _very_ different side to her, how innocent Madame could be, even naïve when it came to human society back in those days. It is as strange to her as she is to it (but not to me of course). If I had been but a common trickster, I could have made a good go at conning my lady out of house and home! But I owed her my life, twice over, and an honest girl like me only cared for an honest living.

"I guess you got an aw'fly big house 'ere Miss" at that, I wondered just how big a place like this could be, "Don't you 'ave any maids, or assistants?"

"No. It is just me"

The lady dropped her head, and for the first time I felt a great rush of sorrow for her all across my body. I knew loneliness, that was for sure, but to be shut up in this place all alone? I don't think I could have beared it.

"How could you stand it Miss?" I whispered.

She seemed to think twice before she answered. Honestly I don't think she fully trusted me with the answer.

"You are the first human who has not shouted at me, or screamed, or thrown things, or tried to kill me" he fists clenched and her frown deepened, "The first who had not reminded me of the ones who killed my sisters"

She caught my eye and locked on, and I began to feel uneasy in her presence.

"I sense that you are like me. Alone. If you wish to be my maid then I shall employ you as such. There are many things about me you will need to learn, you must realise. That is," she walked forward and extended her green hand out to me once again, "If you accept"

I would have had to have been hit in the head far harder than I had to turn that offer down.

"Yes please Miss" I took her hand for the second time and squeezed it as a yes, "But may I ask you something first?" I let go of the cool hand.

"I can guess what it is you are going to ask me." She dropped her hand back to her side, "I am a Silurian - _homo reptilia, _we inhabited this Earth millions of years ago, in a society far advanced from your today. We have slumbered for many years, waiting to be awoken. However, I am the only one who has" she gazed away at nothing, just into the distance.

"_Homo reptilia_?" I hadn't heard such words before.

"It is Latin, human. Your race is correctly referred to as _homo sapiens"_

"So, we ain't all that diff'runt then?" To me it seemed obvious, half our names were the same after all. She just smirked and shook her head to herself. I decided to leave it for now.

"I cannot have you being so unlearned human. I will have to teach you things other than my own peculiarities"

"I'd like that" I spoke, honestly. I couldn't even read, and I'd always dreamt of being a knowledgeable woman, knowing that I could never hope for it as a poor girl, "But may I ask you something first Miss"

"Yes…" she paused, waiting for my name.

"Jenny" I filled in.

"Jenny, right"

"Can I have something to eat, if you don't mind?"

She looked at me shocked.

"Oh my, I totally forgot how malnourished you are! We must get you some proper attire also…you must forgive me, I do not know how to prepare human food, all I have is raw meat. Could you please make something yourself? The kitchen is just through there, I am fatigued and need to rest for the night. You may have the second bedroom on the right, I believe some clothing is still in there from the previous owner. We can sort affairs of your employment out tomorrow."

I was almost overjoyed. I nodded and she almost gave a smile in return.

"Miss, right now I'd probably eat anything in this house except you!"


	4. Unfamiliar

After the incident I have just told you about, I can tell you my life turned around pretty sharpish!

Some things I knew were gonna happen: I put weight back on, slept better than I ever had in my life, and finally had something to fill my days with other than begging and scrounging. I was happier than I had ever been, which wasn't too hard, but nevertheless I had no need to squander it!

Other things however…well let's just say they were a bit more fanciful.

For starters, my new mistress couldn't get cold, or rather, I wasn't allowed to _let_ her get cold. Being…well, being what she was, she couldn't keep warm by herself. "Cold blooded" is what she called it, whereas I, a "mammal", am "warm blooded". Honest to God, when I was on the streets I felt far from warm-blooded, call me whatever you like – mammal or not!

That's the other thing. I learnt some new word or piece of information nearly every day with Madame when I first started, something which has carried on to this day. I used to try her patience something rotten I swear; she used to explain things over and over to me when I didn't understand, even when I could tell she really didn't want to. She could be sharp-tongued my mistress – and not just because it's poisonous (another thing I had to learn). If she had come back from a case that hadn't gone too well, or she had gotten too cold well…I learnt that it was best to leave her alone, that was for sure. She could give you a right hiding with that mouth I can tell you (and get your mind out of the gutter!).

Oh, I forgot to mention; shortly after out meeting Madame was given work at Scotland Yard of all places! It seemed they quite liked her killing off the worst criminals, but by the book wanted her to calm it down a bit. Luckily Madame is so bleedin' clever she can out-think even their top detectives! Not sure they really like that part to be honest. I loved listening it, eavesdropping really, back in those days. I wanted my life to be exciting like hers, but I knew I was lucky just to be alive, so I didn't pipe up about it.

Me and Madame, we didn't quite get each other to start off with. She were always drinking animal blood and eating raw meat without even cooking it. I wondered how she didn't get ill. I also eventually worked out that she would sometimes eat the criminals too; she never made an effort to hide it. I mean fair enough it saved on supplies, but still…

Anyway.

It took a long time for Madame to stop calling me "ape" or "human" and call me by my name. It's a habit that even today she lapses into if she is really angry (but very rarely). After a while though, I began to get the feeling that she secretly liked having me around. She had been alone in London up until the night she met me, and I guessed that even a "stupid ape" was better than nobody to her. She made good on her promise too, and began to teach me things in her spare time. First she taught me how to read, and as the months went by I found myself correcting my own speech (something that I still do now). I began to become more aware and concerned about my accent when I was around her. It weren't…wasn't always deliberate, sometimes she didn't even need to tell me when I had made a mistake.

Then, a few months in, she began to tell me about her ancient history, or my history which I never knew, or politics, science, maths…I felt as if my head would surely burst! Lord knows I couldn't remember it like she could about my World. I saw how small my World was, how little I had known. Now that I had been taught so much, I knew that I could never let this knowledge go again.

The biggest change came from more or less an accident. I was sat with Madame in the sitting room one evening. Madame was busy thinking over and over about some small detail in a case. She hadn't spoken to me much that night, but was simply hissing and growling to herself. I hated it when she was like this; just because I missed her company. I had grown used to her speaking to me every day, almost longed for it when she was out of the house. I can only comment that these feelings had started to trouble me again, without explaining it to you in detail – at least not yet in the story. Anyway, perhaps it was this need to have her pay a blind bit of attention to me again that led me to be so bold, goodness knows it weren't my normal self who spoke up that night!

So, like I was saying, Madame was making such a fuss over the case that we sat there gone half the night in silence until she finally spoke a word. I had been watching her out of the corner of her eye; tearing up pages, scribbling notes away so fast I wondered how she hadn't written a whole book by now, and pulling more facial expressions than I thought strictly normal. It was only a hunch, but I had an idea that this case was bothering her more than usual. She seemed more involved and determined to solve it.

Only two days prior to this she had almost bowled me over as she sprinted out of the door, shouting over her shoulder through her black veil that she was chasing a "new lead", only to come back in the late evening cold and miserable. When I had slyly suggested she had overdone it she had only looked at me sadly, told me she had got nowhere, and disappeared off to her room. I sat up for a good half the dark night that evening, wondering what the devil could have Madame so stumped, and even more peculiarly, scared. Because for the first time, she seemed to be showing fear. It was so much so that the whole house seemed to be suffering with it; as if it were quivering right down to its bones (yes, I know that houses ain't got bones, but I think you get my meaning). I could swear the great oak staircases that stood so firm and proud had started to sigh at even my dainty little feet; like the place was connected to Madame, and without her it would just fall apart (even though I was the one who kept the place nice most of the time). Even the air seemed colder, less because of a change in the weather, more because of….spiritual reasons, I guess. I know I sound right daft for saying it but I can think of no other way of describing it, it was just that!

At first, maybe somewhat foolishly, I convinced myself maybe Madame was afraid of just not knowing the answer to something for once (I have to give it to her; it didn't happen all that often) rather than something being frightening in the 'usual' sense. Although this was partly true; after all, Madame hadn't even a lead at this point, mostly this was just wishful thinking, on my part. After all, Madame always loved a challenge, providing there was no immediate danger. So if she wasn't enjoying this case…well, I think you can work out the rest.

I don't think I need to tell you that if something scares a great old lizard warrior from the dawn of time, it's probably not going to get along with a common human like me!

So, back to the sitting room two days later.

As I told you, Madame had said more or less nothing the whole evening bar the couple of angry noises she had managed, and to be quite honest with you, I was bloody well bored of listening to it. Before I had even thought of what I wanted to say, my big mouth had already come up with something.

"Ma'am, what is it?!" I blurted out.

Madame turned her gaze to me very deliberately, and I briefly was reminded of the fact that she had saved my life by tearing a man's throat out. But she didn't look angry, more a mixture of surprise and weariness.

"Oh Jenny!" she sighed, throwing the notes and the object she was examining onto the floor in front of her, "I give up, no leads, no information, nothing!" she shook her head and gazed upon the scattered objects. It never failed to amaze me, of all things, that Madame had a Scottish accent, which came across even more pronounced when she was agitated.

We fell silent again as she looked at the mess she had made, almost mournfully. Her striking blue eyes were darting around, as if they were seeking a new idea gained only by throwing what she already had on the ground. She seemed frantic, but defeated. It was uncomfortable to watch someone who I had grown to call my friend in so much pain.

"Tell me Ma'am, what's got you in such a fluster lately?"

Madame Vastra looked at me in a calculated way, as if she couldn't believe I had noticed a change in her behaviour. Daft lizard didn't know how bleedin' obvious she was.

"What makes you say that?" she asked.

"I do live with you Ma'am; I can tell when you're acting different"

'Plus you've been watching quite closely lately' I thought to myself, then immediately cursed myself for thinking.

Madame sighed again, and she looked so forlorn that a sudden urge to embrace her almost overcame me. But I fought it. Once that door was open I couldn't be sure where else it would lead.

And I had done so well at keeping it shut for so long.

"Jenny" she took a deep breath and steadied herself, "If I tell you, you have to promise not to become unduly alarmed"

A small hint of nerves bit into my chest; this was it – the thing that was scaring even Madame Vastra!

"I promise Miss, honest to God!"

I placed my hand over my heart for effect; it was shaking with excitement. All those times I had watched around the corner, strained to hear things through walls, and finally I was going to be part of a real case!

Madame stood suddenly, her hand clenched into green fists that reminded me of apples, and drifted over to the window to part the curtains and look out to the street, just staring. She was like a caged beast when she was worked up, pacing like a captured predator from a faraway land, which wasn't that far off the truth. It seemed that whatever she was about to tell me was so terrible that she couldn't even look me in the eye.

"There is a man" she began, "Or at least I'm almost certain that the perpetrator is a male human, who is attacking women in this area"

I was confused. Women getting attacked weren't even news in some of the rougher areas. How could that have her so rattled?

Madame continued before I could speak.

"The attacks at first seemed unconnected, uncoordinated. But then I noticed recurring details, things that were always the same in each case"

She walked back to sit opposite me on the same fancy seat that I had first woke up on in this place, but she still kept her glance to the side.

"Female, brown hair, shorter than average height, pale complexion, aged eighteen to twenty five, and…employed at some point as a match girl"

I froze. My heart seemed to want to escape from my chest it pounded so strongly.

"Jenny, they are all like you"

Suddenly, all the pieces of her behaviour over the past few days began to slot together – little things that hadn't even caught my notice at the time. A few days ago she had insisted on completing a trivial errand herself that required me walking to the shops alone, despite the fact she was so busy with this case, and that I really didn't have nothing else to do. Alongside this, when we had gone out together she also had seemed to be walking a little closer to me. I thought I had imagined it, or perhaps wished it so, but maybe it had been her way of protecting me without alarming me, I thought.

That almost disappointed me; that it wasn't for another reason. But something else stopped me from feeling disappointed.

The fear.

It wasn't because of a great monster, or an invincible criminal mastermind, or even another alien threat. It was because of…me?

How did that make me feel? I don't quite rightly know even to this day, and right then? My head was so full of ideas and my skin was bubbling like hot water, sending my whole body wild. I was jumping ahead of myself, but how could I help it? For all appearances it seemed as though the only thing that was unusual about this case was the connection to my looks, and why would that upset her so much?

I allowed myself the fancy, for the moment, that perhaps my growing feelings were not in vain. Not that I have really explained them to you yet; because at this time in the story I hand't even given myself the privilege of understanding it.

So, all I could do was talk to her.

"Ma'am" I spoke, stuttering and unsure, terrified of what may come out, "Do you mean to say you, _care_ about me _that much_?"

At that, she finally made eye contact with me, and it was if she were looking at me for the first time.

"That is what you take notice of? You are not afraid the scoundrel will attack you? You aren't afraid for your life?"

The room was so quiet it felt ghostly. A deathly breeze rattled the windows momentarily. I supposed that what she said made sense, in a logical fashion. But I had been feeling far more queer than logical of late.

"No, I'm not afraid"

"Are you afraid of _me_ Jenny?"

That was a question and a half I can tell you!

Afraid of her in the traditional, life-threatening way? Never. After all I'd be dead without her. But I was sure that wasn't what she meant.

Afraid of her caring for me? I would say the opposite was more likely!

Afraid of how she might make _me_ feel? You bet.

It was me who broke the gaze this time to look down and shuffle my feet.

"No I'm not afraid of you" I managed, "Not like that, I…"

But I was immediately stopped in my trail of thought.

My toe had nudged something she had thrown on the floor earlier. I toyed with it until I could see it clearly; it was a matchbox. The box was clear cream coloured, stained with black gilding printed on the box and the name of the local brand. But there were no mistaking it – it belonged to my old employer Mr Camberwell – his "lucky matchbox" as he has used to call it. It had the same damage marks – a black line that ran along half the box, a burn mark in the left corner, and a tear in the right. He always used to carry it around, tossing and catching it, when I was a match girl. I couldn't move my eyes away from it; it was like being reminded of a past which didn't belong to me anymore.

"What is it?" Madame Vastra spoke sharply, noticing my interest in the item.

"How'd that get 'ere?" I croaked, knowing I was not going to like the answer.

Madame leaned forward to pick the box up and hold it in front of her between her two fore fingers.

"You recognise this?" she stared at me intensely now, sensing information, and perhaps glad to have been distracted from the earlier talk.

"O'course! It was my old employer's, Mr Camberwell, he-"

"Jenny listen to me!" she lunged forward, dropping the match box and grabbing my round the shoulders. I must say the move both surprised and excited me.

"Did he ever _harm_ you?" She spoke, almost softly which was right odd for Madame!

I flinched then, despite myself, at the memory of Mr Camberwell catching me and another match girl speaking in a way that was more than strictly friendly. I cringed at the thought of the desire in his eyes, and of the things he would have done had my father not shown up by chance and intervened, punching him right in the eye and ending my employment as a match girl.

The other match girl…her name had been Lily. That had been just before everything had been found out.

Just before she was hanged.

Just before I was abandoned.

But enough of that, that isn't what we are talking about is it?!

Only one word came out of my mouth that night in answer to her question

"Yes"

Madame's face hardened, and I swear I saw the carnivore in her more than ever in that look.

"This matchbox was recovered from the scene of the last murder"

Regardless of the fact that I had worked out the connection during her interrogation of me, I still felt as if I had swallowed a lump of lead at her confirmation. No words escaped me. Could it really be that Mr Camberwell was after me, or at least had some queer madness over the likeness of me? All those innocent young women who had been taken by him – I had known he was a creep of a man, but a murderer? If Madame was right, then I was surely on his list. Now I felt the fright that she felt; what if he knew where I lived already? Madame could protect me but-

My face must have spoken of my unrest because I felt her hands close around mine and my mind calmed.

"Stay here my dear" she stood and went out the room in a rush, heading for where her coat hung, "I have a visit to make"

"But how do you-" I began, wondering what she could be thinking.

"I spoke with him for information. I didn't like him but there was nothing to connect him to the crime so I didn't take the matter any further. Foolish of me; my instincts are never wrong"

This was all happening too fast. It was the middle of the night! If she went out then I was certain she would surely kill him, which wasn't necessarily a good idea. Either that or die of cold, which was definitely a bad thing!

"Wait-" I shouted out across the room as I could hear her throw on her black night coat.

"There is no time; he may already be on the hunt for another girl! A predator like him is most alive at night, under cover of darkness"

'Of course', I thought, 'She once hunted at night also.'

I stood, too quickly, and round my view spinning with images of fine furniture and the glow of the fire. Hand on head I stumbled out to the door where she was stood with one hand already on the great iron door handle. She looked so handsome, almost royal in that coat, I thought. I shook myself out of it.

"Ma'am!"

"Trust me" she spoke, and in a flash she was gone, before my gaze even had a chance to settle.

I stared at the grand oak door dumbly, thinking over all that had just happened. Eventually I felt a chill as my senses came back to me, and returned to stoke the fire and sit before it. The facts stood as this: my ex-employer was trying to kill me (or at least people like me), Madame Vastra cared about me, I had just potentially solved a murder investigation, and most importantly…

She had called me, "Dear".

And with that, the door was opened.


	5. Familiar

Her name was Lily.

We had both been match girls for Mr Camberwell when all of the trouble began.

See, in order for me to explain what happened next with Madame Vastra, and to explain all the hints I have been giving you throughout my tale, I need to explain my past. But it is a story I have never told to anyone, except Madame – and even then that took me long enough to work up the courage! I certainly have never written it down (for fear of who might read it). So please bear with me, as this labour will not be an easy one.

* * *

I had always known I was different.

Now I know what you're thinking – that everybody says that! Yes it is true that nobody is exactly like another; when I was young I knew two twins in the borough who were identical, but one ended up a criminal and the other took to the church! But that doesn't mean it wasn't true for me, simply put; I just wasn't like other girls my age. My Mother would speak of marriage, children, God, and the cycle of our working-class life as if it was a foregone conclusion. I used to think she had written out my whole life before I had even made it out of her! If I didn't go for that then I suppose the choice probably was either early death or street life. No surprise that most didn't even raise an eyebrow at keeping things the way they had always been.

But for me? I couldn't right well stand it.

Not that I didn't like men, nah – they were a good laugh most of them! But_ women_…

From an early age I knew they were interesting in a whole other way. It was a completely natural feeling, I didn't even think to question it – I haven't got pages and pages of unhappy feelings or confusion to pour out to you. If it wasn't for everyone else's problem with it, I probably would have got along just fine, but unfortunately it didn't work like that for me.

My Mother…she picked up on it pretty sharpish as I was growing up. She started to mention courting whenever she had the chance, forever asking me if I had a sweetheart and what _his_ name was, always teasing me about my male friends. But she got nothing back from me, and the longer it went on, the more I could see the worry reflect back at me in her eyes. The day everything came to light, she said she had been waiting for it to happen, and I believe she was telling the truth.

But I did a good job of hiding any solid proof of it for most of my young life, until Lily all my Mother or anyone else had were just suspicions. Even as I grew aware of what it meant to be sweet on someone and feel romantic longings, I found it easier altogether just to ignore the fluttering in my chest (like I swallowed a small bird), or the heat between my legs (much harder to ignore) when I was around some of my earlier objects of affection. But they were just the start of it all, so it wasn't hard to brush them aside. Like I said, the real trouble came when I was a match girl.

I met Lily when I was 16, as a match girl in the factory. She smiled at me from across the production line one day, and I was caught by her blue eyes like a fish on a hook. Just like with Madame, I have always been weak for a pair of beautiful blue eyes, and I must say Madame's are the most blue I have ever seen (and the most beautiful). But it all started with Lily. The moment I saw those eyes I just knew that I had to make her acquaintance.

I caught her on my way out of the factory after work. Her hair was dirty blonde, tied back and slicked down on top of her pretty round head. She was about my height and slightly less pale than me (not hard), so all in all fairly unremarkable. What got me was the eyes – blue as the gems in rich people's jewellery, when I walked up to her outside I could have sworn they shone at me, soppy thing I was back then (not much has changed). She had this lopsided, cocky grin across her face as I walked up to her – Lily always liked to pretend that she was a lot more coy than she really was, as if nothing in the world could ever stop her. Guess that was her downfall in the end.

As I approached she simply cocked her head to the right, and I followed her down a pathway that nobody else was taking. Once we were out of earshot she laughed in such a carefree manner I wondered if the devil had got in her.

"Caught'ya looking love" she spoke, without looking at me.

She was older than me, at least by five to eight years, if it wasn't for her looks I could tell by her swagger. She was toying with me, and I sort of liked it, subtlety be damned!

"I reck'un you was the one lookin' at me" I fired back.

"Hah! Now 'ere's one with a bit of fire!" she looked sort of impressed with me, which only egged me on, "Listen 'ere, reck'n you can keep a secret?" she stopped, grinning at me as if we were in some jolly gang.

"What's it worth?" I put my hands on my hips, daring her to say more.

"You'll see" she cocked her eyebrow as she reached into her pocket, "Look 'ere"

Out of her work clothes she brought out a pocket watch locked onto a golden chain, far, far too fancy for her to ever own as a match girl. I watched it swing there in the air, as I stood open-mouthed as if I were trying to catching flipping flies in my mouth.

"Where'd you get that?" I gasped, already knowing the answer.

"I stole it" she replied, simply and proudly, "It's my '_other job_'" she threw out her palms grandly, showing off all the same. I couldn't believe how bold she was, it made me queer to the stomach in a way that weren't bad nor good.

"Why are you telling me this?" I frowned, my senses slowly returning, "I could quite rightly march you right back in there and get you the sack!"

"But you won't" she smiled.

She'd left me speechless for the second time, and that was no mean feat I can tell you! Without a second glance she had pranced off down the alleyway, gay as a small child, leaving me there not knowing whether I was coming or going.

But she was right, I didn't tell anyone.

* * *

So that was how I met Lily, part-time match girl, part-time thief. Truth be told she was a wrong'un through and through, but try telling me that at the time. It didn't take us too long to become thick with each other. Cor blimey did she live a life of danger though! The more I got to know her, the more I could see it, and the more I became a part of it.

We started to lark around after work – it began as just talking, or going for walks, but eventually it built up to more. The first thing she did was hold my hand, it felt friendly for a while, but then it became too tight to be friendly. Then we moved on; she started to hug me, kiss me on the cheek, let her hands linger longer and longer, and all the while I never once protested. Tell you the truth, I wanted more.

It wasn't just that what changed about the way she was treating me.

She eased me in by showing me more of her stealing – slipping me a glance of the stuff she had taken, giving me stuff she had nicked (I never liked taking it), and then one day she pickpocketed in a crowd while I walked next to her – looked at me with a grin like a cat who just got a bowlful of cream. Part of me could have slapped her across her smug face right there for risking my good name in all this nonsense, but at the same time I just wanted to be _around her_. Heaven knows I realise how wrong it all was, but I just couldn't find the strength to say no to her. I knew it had gone too far when she convinced me to distract someone while she made off with something from a cart. I still feel guilty about it till this day!

With the benefit of what Madame would call "hindsight" I can see what a proper pigeon I were! She knew what she wanted to use me for from the start, and she knew what I wanted from her. She used it to make me her puppet, and I was a fool for her. All she had to do was smile and shine those blue eyes at me, and I would have done whatever she asked. Maybe I'm being too harsh on her, but it's easier to remember her that way, after what happened to her.

It all came to a head in its own time, and if it hadn't, I probably would have been in that match factory to this very day.

It had been two months since I had first met her. As usual we had met up after work, but this time she didn't let me get far before she pounced on me. I should tell you that we had been particularly close over the week before this happened, and the feeling between us was more tense than it had ever been.

Lily had pushed me down an alleyway and pinned me to the wall by my shoulders. That same cocky smile was slapped right across her face, and she was uncomfortably close…I was loving it. But her nearness didn't stop me from thinking completely.

"Lily, stop it, we'll get caught!" I cried, half-heartedly, not really wanting her to pull away.

"So?" her pretty eyes were level with mine, unblinking and hard.

I was burning with excitement in every corner of my body.

"You and me Jenny, we work well together right? Like a team…a duo?" She tilted her head to the side, watching me like a hungry animal. She was starting to frighten me, not so much by what she was doing, but what her words were suggesting.

What did she really want with me?

She must have taken my silence to heart because she looked shaken, if only for a second.

"You know what I mean don't you Jenny?" she whispered.

I could feel all my limbs quiver at the warmth of her breath. She was so close…I couldn't put my thoughts into order; everything in my head seemed to be trying to talk at once, leaving me with just the sound of screaming as all my ideas came together at once. Did she want me to be her lover? Had that all been a face to get something else for me? Did she want to drag me into her crimes even more than she had already? Did she-

My thoughts were cut off by her limbs suddenly wrapping around mine. Before I could even speak her lips had followed suit, and were pressed firmly into my own. It lasted for maybe only a few moments, but it was finer than I could have ever imagined. There was the warmth of her skin, the slight taste of smoke on her tongue, and not to forget the mad heat spreading below me. I couldn't think, even in my own head there was silence – which believe you me is saying something!

She drew apart from me, and the first thing I could hear was my own voice within me, wondering if I had done it properly.

"You and me. We can leave here Jenny! Run away, make a life together!" Lily grinned madly, "Oh we could make such a better go of it than this!"

I stared at her, dazed. She carried on, oblivious to my unrest.

"But it has to be a team Jenny. I can't do better game on my own. Say you're in, I know you love the chase, I've seen it!"

My heart sunk; she was talking about stealing again.

She was wrong; it weren't the chase I loved, and it never had been. I'd pretended to in order to get closer to her, perhaps you could say that were wrong of me, but I was soft on her. But, truthfully speaking, aside from my unnatural longings I was an honest girl, and I hadn't ever wanted to hurt a soul or break the law in my life! As for making a go of it as a way of life, you'd have to be totally bonkers to want that if you ask me. I know that even more so now the coin is flipped and I fight the bastards myself.

But that kiss…oh how my heart felt swollen! To turn from her now would be an unbearable betrayal. No woman had so much as looked at me suggestively until Lily, if I rejected her, would there be another? I quickly summed up my options – agree and live a life you hate, or stay here and lose her for good.

Before I had time to start choosing, the moment was broken for us, and with it our friendship was lost forever.

"Well, well, well ladies"

I knew that sneer, and that pig-like voice, and honestly, could he have chosen a more predictable line?! Mr Camberwell had never been the most imaginative of gentlemen, wouldn't have known a great idea if it knocked on his door and asked to be his wife! But he knew the right people, and his word meant a great deal in our town. For me and Lily - compromised and latched onto each other like a young courting couple in a seedy corner, this only meant trouble.

"Now Miss Wakefield…" (That was Lily, by the way) "I didn't really expect much better of you, nasty little troublemaker that you are, but _you_ Miss Flint…" He purposefully turned his gaze on me, clearly taking his time and drawing the whole affair out for his own pleasure, _"You surprise me"_

"M-Mr Cam-Camberwell…" I stuttered, pushing Lily off me as she still held onto me in shock, "It were nothing I swear to yeh!" I turned towards his direction, facing him head on.

Mr Camberwell laughed, sending his hands on his overfed stomach and his ginger whiskers quivering.

"Lass do you think me _simple_?" he threw his chubby arms in the air in mock despair, "I, unlike you, am not a silly, pointless match girl." He pointed a finger at me, "Now if you know what's good for you-"

Lily went forward at this point, perhaps more forcefully than she had meant to as she was within touching distance of Mr Camberwell by the time she stopped.

"Keep your filthy hands off-"

"Look who is calling who filthy Miss Wakefield!" Mr Camberwell lunged forward and took her by the shoulders.

"I said keep your-"

"Or what?" Mr Camberwell cut Lily off, cocking his eyebrows smugly. He were right, she couldn't much help the situation, not in her state. Unsurprisingly, Lily had no answer for him.

Without hesitation, Mr Camberwell threw Lily out of the alleyway to the street behind him. She hit the floor hard, and lay there looking up; terrified and in pain. At once I saw her for what she truly was, under all that talk – weak.

Mr Camberwell ignored her and turned back to me, hunger raging in his eyes.

"How about we keep this our little secret Miss Flint?"

Now I must say, I don't make a habit out of getting trapped in alleyways by strange men, even though it has happened twice to me already in my story! I guess I am not quite as smart as I hoped! Madame has taught me all about "tactical positioning" as she calls it, since the last time. I just see it as not being stupid enough to block yourself in to a frigging alleyway!

Mr Camberwell starting advancing towards me, slowly and deliberately – I hadn't a chance of escape, his massive body had almost completely blocked the way out, and not to forget I was fairly weak in those days (not anymore, thanks to Madame).

I knew if I cried out and drew attention to myself he would spread word of what he had seen, and I would lose everything I had, little as it was. But I couldn't just let him have my way with me either! I know I didn't mind men, but the thought of losing my innocence to Mr Camberwell and his piggy eyes…

I screamed. I went for it so good that I swear I bought half of London out of their houses! I took Mr Camberwell by surprise; I guess he thought I'd go down like a good girl. He rammed his fingers into his ears and winced as I wailed.

But nobody came, and when I finally stopped I could see I wasn't thinking again. If anyone did come, how was an audience going to help me? Nobody was going to believe my word over his! What was I going to do, take a bleeding bow?!

Mr Camberwell took out his fingers, and seemed to read my mind just as I had my realisation. Madame would have called this my "Fight or Flight" instinct kicking in as my "sympathetic nervous system" reacted to Mr Camberwell – I was choosing to fight, as best as I could. As you may have noticed, Madame always came out with words that most people hadn't even heard of yet. I sometimes wondered how great her society must have been, but I've always been secretly glad she ended up where she did, of course. But oh, what I would have given to seen it!

I was certainly feeling "nervous" in any case.

"What good do you think that is going to do darling?!" Mr Camberwell leered, an evil smile appearing as he began to come close enough to grab me.

I took a step back, and felt the coarse rub of brickwork behind me.

"Lily?!"

I glanced wildly at the person I had thought my friend (maybe even more), she was still sprawled on the floor helplessly, and had made no attempt to help me.

"I'm sorry Jenny, I'll make this right, I-" Lily picked herself up and made to leave sharpish, no remorse in her reddening eyes, only panic, "I-"

As she turned she abruptly hit the form of another man, who had appeared at the entrance to the alleyway. This man was far taller and stronger than Mr Camberwell; he had the arms of a labourer, and the eyes of a man who had seen more hardship than was truly fair thanks to scheming, greedy men like Mr Camberwell.

"What are you doing with _my daughter?!"_

My Father's face was a very dark shade of red, his fists clenched and shaking, making the heavy veins in his arms pop out.

"Mr Flint…" Mr Camberwell swivelled violently, gasping nervously, I…"

"I don't want t'er hear it!" yelled my Father, making everyone jump, "As for _you_" he hooked Lily up by the collar of her uniform and threw her far down the street, "Keep your thieving hands away from my daughter"

The threat within his undertone could have turned the toughest soldier white, I assure you! As he threw her off, my Father hit her with a glare strong enough to bring London Bridge down! I couldn't see her anymore, but heard her clumsy steps as she ran away.

My Father turned back to Mr Camberwell, his eyes black with fury above his jutting bearded chin. Mr Camberwell couldn't even manage proper words; he was so overcome with fright. He physically cowered as my Father came forward. My Father forced him back up straight by lifting Mr Camberwell up by his shirt with both hands. Without speaking he removed one hand, and ploughed one of his massive fists into Mr Camberwell's face.

"She won't be working for you anymore" he growled.

Mr Camberwell fell to the floor, hands over his face and blood pouring from in-between his fingers. My Father never did anything by halves, that was for sure! He didn't give Mr Camberwell a second look, and instead walked straight up to me, grabbing me roughly around the arm. My Father only knew one method of communicating with people, and that was physical. Not to say he was a nasty man, but merely a product of how his was treated by his own Father, and life.

"Home" he barked.

As he marched me out, I felt an odd mixture of relief and dread all at once. My Father still only looked two steps away from attacking someone else with his bare hands. Before we got away we were interrupted by Mr Camberwell's desperate cries.

"Your…daugh-ter…" he coughed wetly, as if bringing up blood, "A filthy…tom"

My Father only tightened his grip and kept walking.

* * *

"I have been waiting for this to happen, all these years!"

My Mother was screaming at me, flailing her arms around as she paced around (what you could call) our 'kitchen' and living area' like a crazed madwoman, "Didn't I try Fred, to make 'er right?"

"Mmm" my Father replied, he had not stopped staring at me since we got back. I was sat at the table sheepishly while they (and by "they", I mean my Mother) wore my ear off with talk.

"And with _'er_! Oh the shame…" my Mother let out a sob worthy of the theatre, "That thievin' tom whore!"

"I didn't do any-"

My reply was halted by my Mother's hand across my face. I should've known not to speak up at her. Regardless, the sting in my heart were far greater than that which were on my cheeks.

"Don't lie to me!" she wailed, bleary-eyed.

"Hold on Nancy"

My Father rose and walked over to me, looking down on me like some great giant. I felt smaller just gazing up at him.

"Now Jenny. I won't 'ave no thief in the 'ouse, or no tom for that matter" he pointed a thick finger in my face, "But I think I know what's 'appened 'ere" he took hold of both my shoulders a bit too tightly, "She's b'in forcin' 'erself on you ain't she? Tryin' to drag you into her filthy deeds?" he squeezed tighter, as if to squeeze the truth out of me, "_Ain't she?_"

My Mother looked as if she was holding her breath; they both fell silent (finally) and watched me for any sign of wavering.

What could I say? He was more or less right, that is, forgetting the fact that I had enjoyed and wanted it.

But he hadn't asked me that, probably on purpose for fear of the answer.

He'd phrased it so I wouldn't have to lie.

"Yes" I spoke, "You're right"

* * *

They shut me in my bedroom, well the one I shared with my siblings, for the rest of the night. I just felt lucky to still be allowed in the house. I couldn't get the look of relief on my Mother's face out of my head. She had been certain that all her suspicions would finally be proved true, I was sure of it. I hadn't been convinced she would take what I said as fact, but there I were.

For now.

I kept thinking about Lily; how she had tried to run away when I was in danger. It was that point I was struggling to forget. How could she mean her own words and then leave me behind? Even my Father, who had been close to throttling me though anger, had loved me enough to stand up for me, _and_ then save me from the wrath of my Mother. Lily, on the other hand, had tricked me; we were no team! I was, and always had been, her slave.

These notions circled around and around in my head as I struggled to stare out of the window, thick with dirt. I couldn't be bothered to clean it off; the glass felt like a prison window – barred and not able to be escaped from. By the time it was dark I had fallen asleep leaning on the window ledge, tired out from all the caper of the day.

* * *

"JENNY!"

I thought, at first, that I was dreaming my own name. I began to doze off again before the voice came again.

"JENNY!"

I awoke at the second call. The cry was as loud as a banshee! I naturally assumed it was my Mother, so I moved from the window and walked back to the kitchen area.

"What'ya want?" I called as I creaked open the flimsy door which separated the two rooms.

My Mother and Father looked on at me, stony-faced and graven.

"She's outside" my Father spoke, his voice full of foreboding. My Mother looked close to tears again.

I ran back to the window and managed to clear a hole in the mess to see out more clearly, now I had good reason to. Lily was standing there, covered in blood, holding a rough sack in one hand, and screaming at my window. I fell back, looking away, and gasped to myself, "I'll make this right", she had said. What had that meant? What in heaven's name had she done?!

She didn't look physically harmed, so from all evidence it looked like the blood belonged to someone else, which meant she had hurt someone, badly. She had always been crooked, but not violent. Something great must have overcome her for her to go that far. Or maybe I just didn't really know her that well. She had already surprised me once today.

I was afraid to look out at her again.

"Leave her"

I heard my Father's voice behind me, deadly and stern.

I had no intention of going to her. I feared her, and most of all, whatever she had done. If I went with her, our whole life would end up becoming moments like this; moments of her madness and wickedness, and me just looking on. The shadow of her choice this night would be cast over us forever.

I nodded to my Father and backed further away from the window, but that only increased her howlings.

"Jenny come back! Jenny I didn't mean to do it; he fought back! Jenny we can run away together!" he voice was becoming hoarse from all the shouting. I felt tears prick my eyes, what a mess I had found myself in!

My Father's expression were darkening by the minute.

"Jenny I did it for you!"

"Wait here", my Father turned sharply and left the room.

I lurched back to the window, my heart pacing like a pack of hounds. Lily still stood watching; hope lingering on her mad eyes uncertainly as she saw me returning into view. I tried not to meet her gaze, it was almost inhuman (and not in a good way like Madame). My Father was outside in what seemed like an instant, I cracked the window open slightly to hear better.

"Has the devil gotten into you girl?!" my Father shouted gruffly. Lily flinched from him, but he caught her arm before she could run, "What've you done?" he shook her blood stained arm. At this Lily collapsed, her legs giving way beneath her. My Father released her arm and it flopped by her side pathetically.

"I…"

"Speak up! Lord knows you managed it just then!"

"I killed John Camberwell!"

At this even my Father stopped frowning for a second.

"The son of that 'ere rich factory owner?!" he hissed.

Lily nodded grimly, and started to cry. I felt as if I would throw up. Why would she do such a thing in my name?!

"For pity's sake why?! Idiot girl…" my Father wrenched her up by her armpits and shook her again for good measure, hard, "You'll get the noose for this!" My Father almost look as if he pitied her, if only for a tiny moment. He had never much liked the rich, and the Camberwells were not nice people; but he was a good man at heart, and certainly never agreed with murder. Black and white he was, right and wrong. Which is what caught me out really, in the end.

"No!" Lily began to really cry now, hard, "No, I did it for her!"

"Why do you keep cursing my daughter's good name?" his face turned back to his natural scowl. Lily sighed loudly; I gripped the window frame so hard I left nail marks. 'Please, please don't say anything' I thought.

"Because I went to steal from Mr Camberwell. To get him for…" she sniffed, "Y'know"

"Then?" my Father leaned forward.

"His son, he caught me…I….I panicked" she looked down at herself, "So much blood…"

"But why?" he pulled her closer so their faces almost touched, "Why _my daughter_?"

"Because I love her!" she screamed, "And she loves me!"

I felt my blood freeze. I couldn't even manage to swallow. I feared I would pass out my head felt so light. Why? Why had she said that?!

"No she doesn't" my Father let go of her, and without the support she fell to the found, "I've heard enough"

He began to walk away. As he did, Lily reached out an arm and began to crawl after him.

"Help me! Help!"

But it was too late. A policeman all dressed up in his sharp black uniform and tall hat had rounded the corner, drawn by all the fuss.

"There's your murderess" my Father gestured to Lily.

"No…no!" Lily tried to struggle, but the policeman had her in his sharp grip before she could run again. She kicked against his lean frame desperately, "Jenny! JENNY!"

"Alright Miss, that's enough!" the policeman barked.

"Jenny!"

I drew away from the window again. I knew I had little time.

I began to throw things into a small bag: any coins, clothing, useful keepsakes. I ran into the kitchen, there was no food on the side. I would have to do without.

My Mother was outside the front door; she had been watching the commotion at a distance. She turned to me as I walked up to her, and I knew at once she had heard everything.

"Get out" she breathed, her eyes red and sore, "We both know you'll only bring _another one_ to our door one day"

I had no reply, she was right. I just brushed past her, ignoring the dull pain in my chest.

I didn't wait for my Father to return, I couldn't bear to see the disappointment in his eyes.

I turned the corner out of the house and started to walk in the first direction that took my fancy away from my home.

It wasn't my home anymore. I couldn't think of it like that, the shame was too much to take.

I was alone now.

* * *

It was these memories which I dwelled on as I waited for Madame to return that night. I had tied not to do so while I was on the streets, as it only deepened the pain in my chest at the awful name I had made for myself and my family. But with the string of murders, Mr Camberwell coming back…well, it weren't no coincidence were it?

My Father had been right; they had Lily's neck for the murder. I saw the announcement in a discarded paper. I still cried the whole night as I curled up in the street, despite what she had done to me, and what she had brought upon my family. My feeling for her had always been mixed, but I couldn't pretend I didn't care for her. She deserved better than what she got. But by God were I glad I hadn't run away with her!

So it was a great terror I found myself in that night, waiting on my own and thinking back, because what I felt for Madame Vastra was a lot stronger than I ever felt for Lily, even at the height of my admiration. But Madame had never forced me or tried to convince me to feel for her; on the contrary, at first she had been distant as the night sky. But time had worked its way and I felt unfamiliarity turn to familiarity, to fondness, to longing, to _this_. She was so intelligent, sharp…brilliant actually, adventurous, and beautiful. Strange as you may find it, but I could see the beauty in her without trying. I'd been fending off admitting it for fear of what had happened with Lily, but the labour of re-living that night where I had run away from home had weakened me. It was true and bare – I was sweet on Madame, and oh how it made me sore in my breast!

I began to well up; everything I had worked so hard for over these past months: my job, my mistress, and my new home were all now to be scuppered for my uncontrollable desires! Were it always to be the same for me?!

More than anything, I cried for wanting her so badly.

If I told her now, would she react like my Mother and Father and cast me out, or worse, would she use me like Lily? Neither experience had been a happy one for me. It seemed as if I were fated to ruin all my best opportunities.

I was deep into crying, almost to the point of mania, when I heard a faint tap behind me, like the sound of a foot. I threw my head around, tears still streaming, and saw Madame Vastra's concerned face looking back at me. I hadn't even heard her come in; she was creepily quiet sometimes, but it weren't like I had been paying attention anyway.

"Jenny?" she made to come towards me.

"Stay away from me Miss" I rubbed my eyes, very obviously, "You don't want to come near me"

"Whatever had gotten into you?"

I shook my head, she shrugged and sighed.

"You don't have to worry anymore." She softened her eyes, "The man was driven to insanity by the time I found him. People say the death of his son changed him. I handed him over the police; he was too wretched for me to be truly angry at him. He can't harm you anymore"

At the thought of Lily's evildoings I let out a small groan. To think, her actions in my name had led to all this heartache. My parents had been right to send me away.

"Jenny you must tell me what has come over you! What is going on?"

She looked so worried about me. I knew it was going to be hard to let her down, but there was no excuse I could think of that would explain all this. Not one that would wash with someone as clever as her anyway.

"Madame, if I tell you, you will disown me!"

"Whatever makes you say that?" she gasped and rushed to stand before me; she looked offended, "As your friend I implore you to have more faith in my judgements!"

I looked up at her, and saw her startle at the state of my face.

"Most people would" I spat, bitterly.

"I am not like most people Jenny, both literally and figuratively speaking"

She sat down opposite me and gently took my hands, which were nervously fumbling.

"Talk to me"

Something in her look…I can't explain it, all I know is the story poured out before I could stop myself – my childhood, my parents, Lily and the incident, the whole lot. As I was speaking, the release of admitting it calmed me, so I were no longer crying when I finished.

Madame paused after I had told her the whole story, gently rubbing her chin with one hand, and still holding mine with the other. She hadn't reacted like I expected at all. She seemed deep in a thought, pondering.

"Did you love her?" she asked.

I stared at her, speechless. I couldn't believe she had decided to focus on that point of all things – love. There was some uncertainty in her eyes, as if she wasn't sure she would like the answer.

"No" I said honestly, "I think I just liked the idea"

"Of what?" there was now relief, or maybe even hope in her eyes.

"Of love, of 'aving a woman in the way you're supposed to 'ave a man"

I bit my lip, I had said too much, been too bold surely! But she simply smiled gently.

"Strange…Mr Camberwell must have developed a psychosis around your image, a fixation of revenge after Lily murdered his son" she shook her head, "But you are good Jenny, and her deeds were hers alone" she absentmindedly stroked the back of my hand, which made it feel as if it were on fire, "As were Mr Camberwell's"

I smiled back at her gratefully. No one had ever lifted the blame from me before, only deepened it.

"Your parents were wrong Jenny, as is your foolish ape society" she growled, annoyed, "You allow spiritual beliefs to impose arbitrary limits on natural romantic feelings" she closed her eyes, "Silurian society was far less narrow minded"

"I'm sorry" I returned the grip on her remaining hand, she didn't move it, "Do you miss it?"

She opened her eyes. Without meaning to we had leaned closer to each other, gradually. We were far too close, but neither of us seemed willing to move.

"What are you doing?" she whispered. My breath was so shallow, I could barely speak.

"I'm sorry Ma'am" I gulped, catching myself, "I didn't want…to tell you"

Her eyes widened in genuine surprise, her grip wavered as her hand began to tremble slightly.

"You…can't mean?"

"I'm sorry Ma'am" I repeated. This was it, the end as I saw it, so I may as well show my entire hand, as it were, "I know it is wrong for a maid to…" a lump wedged in my throat, "Forgive me Madame"

"Vastra..."

"What?" confusion struck me like my Mother's slap across my face.

"My name is Vastra" she spoke calmly, "Call me that" she cast her eyes down nervously, "Will you accompany me outside for a moment?"

"But Miss!" I couldn't manager her name, not just yet, "You're already so cold-"

"Just for a moment"

She rose and helped me up, keeping my hand in her own as she walked back to the front door. I felt unwell with nerves, and wondered if I may be taken by a fit. She was reacting to all of this so strangely, almost _gladly_, I thought.

'No Jenny' I berated myself, 'Don't be stupid'

But part of me couldn't help but wonder, 'What if?"

She opened the door and we were outside in night time London. I thought for a moment she may shut the door on me and lock me out, but she just remained there, standing with my hand in her own.

"Look up" she said.

I did, and it were such a wonder! For once, the smog had cleared, and a cloudless night lay before us, the stars gleaming and bathing in the light of the moon. It was enough to strike the breath from me.

"You asked me if I missed my people" Madame spoke, looking up, "Of course I do, but please, take note of the stars" she pointed with her free hand, "We are so small Jenny. Even our whole societies are small. You would not believe all that is out there"

Her words were sliding off her tongue like music. It only made it harder to ignore the rising quickness in me.

"We must hold on to what we have Jenny, because in all that chaos we must find meaning, no matter what form it appears in"

She lowered her hand and wrapped her coat closer around herself.

"You're cold" I spoke, "Ere, let's get you back inside"

She nodded, tamely, and we moved to get back into the warmer house.

As she pulled me back through and shut the door, our bodies were pushed far closer than we had aimed, or perhaps it was on purpose, honest to God I don't give a rat's arse why it happened!

I let go of her hand and bravely put it on her upper arm instead as I faced her. I then lifted and placed my other hand on the other arm.

"Jenny, you have to understand-"

"Do you feel for me?" I pulled at the fabric of her coat.

"Jenny, I am not human, I'm…so much older! I-"

"Words" I cut off her stammering.

"What?"

"Simple answer – yes or no?" I was so close to getting what I wanted, the pain of it slipping was too great, "One word" it was a trick my Mother had used on us as children – "Doesn't take that many words to say the truth" she had used to say to us. It had been another thing she had been right about.

Madame Vastra dropped her head.

"You can't possibly-"

"Vastra"

At the sound of her name she raised her head, breathing heavily.

"Yes"

One glorious, blessed word. It was so much more than Lily's false promises, or my Mother's threats, or my Father's desperate disappointment. Just one word and all my longings swelled to the point of breaking, to a tip where I dared to balance and allow myself to lean over the edge. I had been here before, but I hadn't trusted the person at the bottom to break my fall. Sure, the rush of falling is exciting, but only until you hit the floor.

Lily had learnt that the hard way, and had almost taken me with her.

But Vastra hadn't abandoned me, even when I was a stranger to her. She had fretted over a case because of my safety, never once suggested something which could threaten me. She was the only reason I was alive, and yet she didn't try to use it against me, or to control me.

Yet doubt is never easy to completely let go of, and so even in this moment of confirmation, I felt a lingering sensation that this was all a bit too good to be truly real.

Vastra must have sensed my hesitation, because she lifted one of her free hands and slid it across my cheek. Her cool, scaled fingers tingled on my warm skin, her other hand snaked around my waist as I dropped both of mine to hers. Our chests pressed almost painfully close.

She lifted my jaw, seductively.

"And you?" she whispered, her voice thick with desire.

I couldn't wait any longer; I slid my hands to the small of her back and drew her in hungrily

As our lips met, a dangerously strong need arose in me; I knew in an instant I wanted more. Her cool lips moved against my own and it was the sweetest, softest surface you could imagine. My legs, arms, chest, everything ached from_ want_, want of _her._ It was…perfect.

I let go earlier than I really wanted, for fear of myself.

"Yes" I smiled.

I fell, and she was waiting to catch me. She had been there all along.


	6. Hope

**A/N - Hello, thanks for all the views/favs/comments/reviews etc. you lovely people! **

**This chapter contains some of the original dialogue from the episode. Obviously I do not own Doctor Who, did not write it...blah blah blah...if I did Vastra and Jenny would have their own spin off, mandatory spiel. **

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

So, how you feeling? Now for a confession; I've been kind to you so far in this story. I know it ain't really gonna seem that way – after all I've already been thrown out of my home, had my first sweetheart hanged, and almost been murdered several times! Bit more than your average trouble really…but daft as it may sound, all that nonsense all worked out in my favour in the end. It had taken longer than perhaps I had hoped, but slow as it had been, I was in my own version of paradise! I had a roof over my head (and a fancy roof at that), I had survived the streets of Victorian London as a woman (more than a miracle), and I was in respectable employment. More than that, most importantly I had _her_ and all the delicious trappings of love!

I am sorry to disappoint you, but I do not care to go too far into detail about all the wonderful things which occurred between me and Vastra after that first night (some of them are definitely not suitable for general reading). I don't want you thinking I've gone soft on you after all!

To sum it up, if you take out the sword fighting, time-travel, the Doctor, and the alien encounters – we weren't, and still aren't any different from any other couple. Love is a strangely universal phenomenon, no matter how it comes together, and was something that came quickly for us. After months of caging our mutual feelings for each other (for fear of the other's reaction), the slow drip of affection soon lost control and became an unstoppable rush of desire, if I do say so myself. Like any couple we had teething problems – we bickered, misunderstood each other, fell out (never for long), dealt with each other's mood swings (there is a reason why two women aren't usually together, I assure you). Vastra could be awfully insensitive (Silurians…), especially in the beginning, and I for my part tried her patience something rotten as she was teaching me to fight and investigate, after enduring weeks of pleading from me. She had caved in reluctantly, convinced that allowing me this knowledge would only place me in danger in the long term, something she was right about of course, again.

But all that was only in the background. If you'll forgive me for being a wet blanket for a moment, truth be told I adored her with grand abandon – every inch of her scaly body! I would take all the hardship I had faced in my, so far, short life in return for her kisses, her care, her protectiveness of me, our adventures, the look on her face when she finally cracked a case, the way we made love…goodness I am blushing just thinking of it!

Oh, and I forgot to mention, we got married!

Yeah about that…kind of spat in the eye of Victorian convention there didn't we? But hey, I've never cared much for all that nonsense anyway.

The Doctor was the one to marry us (who else could it have been?). The TARDIS, apparently, was a sanctioned venue for intergalactic marriage. Something about a bet he won with a drunk priest in a space station nightclub…he did explain it but, well if you've ever met him you'll understand – he talks very fast. You can never be sure if he is telling the complete truth, but quite frankly you don't care, the story is always too good to worry about.

Lastly we had Strax, our Sontaran butler, to add to the house. I was damn impressed when Vastra managed to convince him to join us, but she can be _very_ persuasive I assure you. I still remember his look of begrudging thanks as we awoke him….priceless I tell you! Anyway, Strax were alright – he did take on a lot of the chores that I hated, but you just had to keep an eye on him, and make sure he didn't try to blow anything up.

So that's how things were – exciting, busy, amazing, but in our own way just another little Victorian family trying to get on in the World. We courted danger like a mistress, but never let her in enough to upset the balance and tear the home apart.

But then came Trenzalore, and the Whispermen, and the Great Intelligence.

I did tell you I died twice…did I forget to mention it was all in one evening?

* * *

Vastra, as usual, has already described what happened to me in far better words that I ever could have,

"It is so much easier to see reason when the situation itself seems to be reasonable, even if the outcome remains the same"

I know that sounds obvious – a good dose of common sense could have told you that! But when you look at it, I mean _really _look at it, why should it matter how something came to be? Shouldn't it only matter that it has? If you get the same outcome, why should you feel worse about it if it happened one way or another?

A truly logical person would be able to see it that way; because if in the present moment you are left with exactly the same thing by two different means, then providing it has not cost you anything greater, there is no difference.

But Madame Vastra, despite being one of the smartest, most logical beings I have ever known, has a heart (and a big one at that, if you get to know her), and like any other living creature gives great importance to the _way_ something comes to pass. Because the way something happens had a great deal of influence on how it makes you _feel._

Of course, the same also goes for me.

So despite the fact that in both incidence, I ended up dead (which, let's face it, can't really get any worse now can it?), one time was far more painful than the other.

For both of us.

* * *

'_She doesn't understand'_

_It is the only thought I can muster._

_Vastra is getting snappy with me; she must be something truly important._

'_She __**has**__ to understand'_

_My ability to think is limited, as if only a small part of my brain is working._

A moment before, everything had been fine. The conference call had been going reasonably well, even if we hadn't any true idea of what was going to happen as a consequence of it. Both River Song and Clara had been there – both looking beautiful and distracting (I really hope Vastra doesn't read that part!), Dr Song being as bold as she ever was, and Clara politely confused. But the main topic of conversation, as ever, had been the Doctor, and the words of Clarence DeMarco. De'Marco's prediction that the Doctor's greatest secret would be 'discovered' (or at least that is how we understood it at the time) dominated the conversation; Vastra brought up the space-time coordinates, played his ugly face back to everyone (how I wished we could have let him hang), even the word 'Trenzalore' around, but only River Song seemed to have a clue about where it would all leaf. Vastra was at her finest though; investigating, discussing grand ideas, pouring the tea…I tried to chip in where I could, which seemed to please her. But aside from the very serious tone of the conversation, nothing seemed like a dire emergency; it didn't feel life-threatening.

Yet.

It started with a small feeling of guilt...I couldn't understand where it was coming from; all I had been doing was sitting there! But I couldn't stop sensing that I had done something wrong, something that would bring shame upon me something that could kill me. I stopped paying attention to what everyone else was saying, all I could notice was the uneasiness creeping over me.

Next came dread. At first it was just a tiny niggle, but then my word did it become unbearable! You know how something inside you will wake you up if a stranger walks into the room when you are sleeping? This is what it felt like; except I couldn't _see _the room someone may be walking into.

Then I remembered.

Just before the conference call. I _had_ seen something, well maybe not _seen_ in the common sense of thinking, but I had felt the presence of something unusual, and probably unfriendly. I was so hacked off at myself, why had I not said something to Vastra?! Oh God, what if they hurt _her_, what if-

'The door'

The realisation interrupted my worrying and filled my heart with certainty.

'You haven't locked the door'

That explained the guilt all right! That same guilt was now all over me, crushing me like the rocks of a falling cliff. I had put both of us in danger, and not only that – outside of this trance we were currently heavily sedated and undefended, sitting down and unable to stop any intruders.

"Ma'am, sorry I-I just realised I forgot to lock the door" I stuttered

"It doesn't matter Jenny! What misunderstanding?" Vastra cut me off irritably, too caught up in the importance of her conversation with Dr Song to really notice me.

I wasn't angry at her though, because suddenly, even as she was replying to me, all I could feel was cold, like icy hands had reached into my chest, I felt so violated, like something was touching my very soul. Everything was happening so quickly, these sensations were so fast I had no time to name them at the time, it is only since I have looked back at the incident that I have been able to place it into words.

'She doesn't understand' I think as she turns away from me.

It was as if someone was shutting me down piece by piece, one part at a time. I was shaking uncontrollably, burning like a hot coal on the outside but frozen as snow within.

'She has to understand' I impulsively feel.

It comes to me in an instant, and I know it to be true – someone is stopping my heart.

"No Ma'am please I should've locked up before we went into the trance" I manage to cut Vastra off just as her and Dr Song are restarting their conversation.

"Jenny it doesn't matter-" Vastra cut me off again, but this time, perhaps surprised at my persistence, she looks at me a little harder.

"Someone's broken in, someone's with us – I can hear them" as I speak I see the unrest in her face change into desperate concern.

"Jenny are you alright?!" her eyes lose all their sharpness as she moves to focus exclusively on me.

I now know that my heart has all but stopped. Only basic thoughts and urges are coming through the link anymore. I realise that these will be my last thoughts and words.

'You must apologise' I think, 'Not only for endangering her, but for what you are about to do…"

What I am about to do is die, and leave her behind. She will be alone and heartbroken for the second time since she was awoken.

'Apologise' the thought becomes more insistent.

"Sorry Ma'm, so sorry, so sorry, sorry…I think I've been murdered"

A single tear falls from my eye.

My heart has stopped completely.

I die, for the first time.

* * *

I am hit harder than a strike from the helm of Vastra's sword in my chest. I cough, my mouth dry and my breath…well I clearly hadn't been breathing as I gulped air in faster than a famished child devours its next meal.

"There we go, just a standard electro-cardio restart, she'll be fine. "

I took a few deep drags of air and opened my eyes.

"Are you alright my love, can you hear me?"

Vastra's handsome face is looking down at me, pained with worry, looking like she might _lose it _for the first time since I had met her. I worry, briefly, that her own heart might give out before she's even given me a chance to come back to life! But all I manage to convey is deep breathing, coughing, and staring (never one for words, me). She is only half-attending to what Strax is saying; interested insomuch as how it explains why I have miraculously come back to her.

Then I hear Strax again, totally oblivious to the hurt Vastra is feeling, sounding upbeat as if he were describing sunny weather (if Sontarans are as concerned about the weather as humans, that is).

"The heart it is a relatively simple thing…"

"I have not found it to be so" Vastra tremors.

Deep in those blue eyes of hers I see a river of tears threatening to burst the dam and flood her relieved yet distraught face. I am only just beginning to feel truly 'alive' again when I am aware of her hand gingerly, tenderly stroking the side of my face, as if I may shatter like an old plate, riddled with cracks.

I take a long, detailed look at her features.

She looks _vulnerable._

Hand on heart, it was the first instance where I would ever have used that word to describe Vastra. Not weak, as weakness implies an absence of strength; it was more like a strong person, felled.

The creeping guilt which had stalked me earlier returned, because all my fears were being proved true, and more. I hadn't realised just how much power I had over her. Not to say that I didn't know how much she loved me, but heavens above, the hurt clouding her eyes looked as if it was about to break her! It shook me to the core of my breast just to see it written in the beautiful features of her face.

Later on, Vastra admitted, rather shamefully, that she had threatened to "cut" Strax into "pieces" if he failed to bring me back. This confession only added to what I felt on the day (and experienced later in the day, but give me time, we'll get to that), and frightened me no end. Because if I had died there, she would have gone back to the way she was before.

The thought of that broke my heart more than the thought of my own death.

* * *

Of course, I didn't die, so don't see much point of lingering on it much longer! Good old Strax saved the day, and that was that. Pretty easy to understand, eh? Even Vastra's reaction, much as it scared me, made sense.

It were what happened next that I didn't understand.

You'll have to forgive me, some of what became is now forgotten to me, as the paradox erased some of memories of what was created by the events that night at Trenzalore. But stick with me, and I promise I will reveal as much of it as I can remember, hard as it will be for me.

* * *

It all started when the Great Intelligence threw himself into the Doctor's timeline, a strange intertwining light that illuminated the grim crypt like some sort of ghost. I guess a ghost is what it was, in a way, but one which had no set form and never would do. How could it be that a living being's history could sit there as a gaping tear, re-written even after death? I mean, I know I didn't always quite grasp all the ideas that Vastra threw at me, but this one really took the biscuit!

Then there was the Doctor – writhing on the floor as if he were being tortured. I could barely watch without a great sorrow taking over my being. His spindly arms flailed around as he writhed around in a terrible, hellish pain. It was _evil_, what were being done to him. I just wanted to run to him, to hold him, to _help_ him in some way – but it weren't any good. Unlike Vastra it didn't click just how grand a scale this invasion would prove to be, I could only think of it on the Doctor's personal level. I understood the Great Intelligence thought this would allow him to wreak tremendous havoc, but the final consequences of him tearing apart his soul didn't occur to me fully. But I had an idea, because the look of terror in Vastra's usually calm eyes as she looked on at the scene was proof enough to me of the seriousness of The Great Intelligence's actions.

"Oh dear Goddess…" she breathed.

"What's wrong?" I shot back, not able to stop watching the awful scene.

"A universe without the Doctor, there will be consequences…" she replied, vaguely, her voice laden with foreboding. I had the terrible inclination that she wasn't able to tell me just how much she meant by that statement, which only frightened me more.

"Jenny, with me" Madame Vastra commanded, turning decisively away from the scene and leading the way out of the vast tomb and out into the dark world it lay upon, overlooking a field of desolate war graves and dead-looking mountain tops. The black sky was clear, and dotted with bright stars, and Vastra was frantically brandishing the scanner at them, searching for something.

"What are you scanning for?" I asked.

"Local star systems" Vastra spoke, her speech desperate.

"Why?" Strax questioned, before I had the chance.

"Because they're disappearing!" Vastra exclaimed, and my heart pinched at the alarmed sadness in her voice. I looked up, the stars were going out rapidly – even I could notice that now!

"Disappearing how?" I replied, stuck dumb with shock. To see Vastra so helpless, the hope in her eyes fading every second she could do nothing sent a chill to the bottom of my throat. The chill then began to spread quickly through every limb and crevice of my body, as if it were both outside me and inside me at the same time. It reminded me of the feeling I had in the conference call, but much stronger.

'It can't be' I thought.

"The Doctor's timeline has been corrupted, his every victory reversed" Vastra explained, her back turned to me, too distracted by the chaos in front of her with good reason. Even as she spoke, the chill began to deepen, making me feel as if I were freezing, and that every part of me was becoming hard and immovable. I weren't convinced it had anything to do with my concern for my wife anymore.

"Think how many lives he has saved, how many worlds!" Vastra spoke again, and I could only just make out what she was saying, as if she were speaking to me underwater. My vision began to blur to a strange mix of black, green, and brown as Vastra and Strax blended with the sky. It reminded me of dirty water, swilling in a bucket. Oddly, I did not panic, actually I felt nothing. It was as if I was another person, residing in the body of someone other than myself.

Vastra said something else, but now it was just a muffled groan to me. I couldn't feel the cold chill across my cheeks, or breathe the dead air of the forgotten battlefield, I was simply alone.

Non-existant.

Then, without warning, I lost the ability to see completely. For a moment, all was as black as it gets.

I didn't appear to have a physical form, and I still didn't think I was quite real. But I had a notion that I wasn't totally dead either. I was self-aware, at least. I felt calm, far calmer than I ever did in 'real life', if indeed this was, or was not 'real life'.

Then, everything turned.

I apologise, dear reader, for as I told Madame Vastra, I honestly cannot remember how I died. The details are lost to me, as the pull of reality stole back the false events when all the damage was reversed by Clara. I only know that I died, and like most deaths, it weren't a pleasant experience, nor one I would like to repeat (twice is definitely enough!). But this time it was permanent, no Strax to bring me back with new found technology.

After I became aware of my own death, I felt my conscious mind begin to slip away from me. Now the calm I held began to change to blind terror. I had not body with which to prevent this, no existence to speak of. I was simply only able to feel myself dying. As I faded, I tried to think back to what had come before, tried to cling on to my past, but it was like catching water with a fork; bits may grasp temporarily, but eventually it all slides through.

'I don't want to forget!' I thought helplessly.

After that, I had no further energy for thought. The last gasp was on my lips (in a roundabout way of speaking, as I had no body). Then without warning, I was cast into a memory. But I was behind someone else's eyes, not able to control anything.

_**I am bent over pages and pages of work, pouring through each line one hundred times, looking for a pattern, anything. I am frustrated; how could I not have detected anything yet? I am starting to get slow. I feel tension and stress rise in my belly – the belly of this foreign body.**_

_**The door knocks, a welcome distraction, I feel.**_

_**I turn, my body feels lithe and athletic, it shifts with a graceful ease.**_

_**I see my own figure at the door.**_

_**I recognise now that I am in Vastra's study, the furniture cannot be mistaken. It feels like the study belongs to me though.**_

"_**You need anythin' Miss?" the other me speaks.**_

_**I am filled with a rush of feeling, want, longing. It feels wrong, I should suppress it – the girl could not feel the same, surely?**_

"_**No thank you Jenny" I reply, sadly.**_

I am wrenched out with all the subtlety of a blacksmith. That was _Vastra's_ memory, I am sure of it, I remember the original incident from my own perspective!

I feel a new rush of life, I no longer feel as if I am dying! I do not want to go under again particularly, as it feels like I am spying on Vastra, but it happens in an instant before I can stop it.

_**The man is a lunatic, I am sure of it. He is half-naked from the waist down and shouting in the streets, hair patchy and clearly ripped out by his own hand, his face taken over by a wild ginger beard. **_

_**I feel so much hate for this man, I intended to kill him, I am sure of it. But an unexpected dose of pity has infected me. He lost the one thing he loved and treasured beyond all other things. This is what it has done to him. I am frightened I would do the same.**_

_**Part of me would still like to separate this man's head from his body for the threat he made to Jenny (to me, myself?), but I cannot.**_

_**I stride up to him confidently and take his shoulder.**_

"_**Come with me Mr Camberwell"**_

I gasp as I fall out of another memory. 'I am able to gasp!' I think. I look down, in the blackness a very vague outline of my body has appeared – like a silhouette or a ghost, illuminated strangely. Unpleasant and sneaky as it may feel to drop into Vastra's memories, I resolve not to fight it, as it is seemingly keeping me alive.

I feel the next one wash over me like the vast sea.

_**I am sat on the end of the bed – my (Vastra's) bed, in a dark room with the curtains drawn. I am holding a single candle in my hands, and sit staring into the flame, mesmerised. I am trying to distract myself and shut out complex emotions with simplicity.**_

_**I have lied to the girl, and I feel most terrible for it. I told her I felt unwell, and have retired to my room.**_

At this point, I am almost certain that I know what the memory is, and I refuse to interrupt it. With no resistance, the memory continues to re-live through me.

_**I stare and stare into the flickering flame, hating myself. My lust for the girl (for me, Jenny, but oddly it doesn't feel like me) is overwhelming. I almost picked her up, threw her to the floor, and ripped her clothes away. It was too soon, I needed restraint, control-I did not want to alarm her, or frighten her away, or worst of all hurt her. But this wanting – it only grows, the embers stoked with the poker of our kiss, all the days after, the power of admission. It is so much more than the little flame that I cradle in my hand. How much longer-**_

_**A small click invades my solitude.**_

"_**Miss?"**_

_**A thin splinter of light comes into my peripheral vision – another candle leaking through the crack in the door.**_

"_**Yes"**_

_**The door creaks open further.**_

"_**Miss, is everythin' alright?"**_

_**There are not enough words to answer that question.**_

"_**Jenny, you should leave"  
**_

"_**Why?!" I register the hurt outlining her voice, I flinch.**_

"_**Because I have a very thin layer of control over myself at this moment" I swallow, my mouth is dry, "Over my feelings for you"**_

"_**Oh Vastra!" her voice swoons, "If only you knew…"**_

_**I look back sharply and see her standing there, her eyes clouded over and dilated, the arousal thick in the air, hormones flying around, it is too much. I stand, place the candle to the side, and go to her. She takes the front of my dress with urgency dropping her candle. I snap it out with my tongue, the room dims.**_

"_**Nice trick" **_

_**Our faces are unnaturally close.**_

"_**It has many uses" I smirk, flirtatiously.**_

_**She pushes me into the wall with strength I would not have expected from her, and kisses me with savage desire. The fire within me becomes a towering inferno.**_

_**It has begun.**_

I reluctantly snap from Vastra's memory – bugger how these things always cut off before the best bit eh? My breath is ragged; somehow re-living my past through my lover's eyes has stirred me far more than simply thinking back myself. I catch my breath back, I still do not understand what is happening, or why. But I can see myself completely again, which, whilst pleasant, wasn't really helping me.

I do not feel dead, or dying, but I feel far less than alive. 'Perhaps this is death' I think, 'And I am just a memory now. So now what?'

I try to make a noise, but it does not appear to be possible. I am simply floating, in this dark place, apparently giving off light, as I am able to see myself.

Later on, after this incident, I remembered what the Doctor had said in the chamber, after I was returned. He had called the invisible woman he was talking to an "echo". That was exactly how I felt in that moment, like the reverberation of something that has already been and gone, but I could not put words to it at the time.

The next memory forced its way in without warning.

_**Rage. Good Goddess I have never felt such anger – it is an inhuman, primal anger, stronger than it has ever been.**_

_**I am quickly distracted by the sight of a dead body – Jenny's (my) dead body.**_

_**I am coming undone, losing all civility, deconstructing, reversing all the Doctor's good intentions. I want to kill, maim, destroy. I want to take those responsible and make sure nobody can recognise them.**_

_**Strax has cast me aside. My body tenses reactively, ready to strike.**_

_**Her body jerks.**_

_**She breathes.**_

_**I realise that the threads holding me together are all made of her, as I am exalted. If she had died…I would once again be worthy of the title "monster". **_

I am shaking as this memory breaks. It was just as I thought, but to feel it in her skin…my word, it was awful, terrifying actually. I couldn't imagine feeling dangerous anger like that in my own body; it was…the only word I could find for it was "animal". It reminded me that no matter how much I adored her, we were very differently built.

I only loved her more for it, because the power she used to keep that in must have been exhausting, and she did it all for _me_.

My thoughts were once again cut off, but not by a memory, but a _feeling._

_**Emptiness.**_

_**Loneliness.**_

_**A loneliness so great it sucks all air from your mouth, all life from your lungs. A blow so crushing your heart is weighted down like lead.**_

_**All feeling is lost.**_

I know, instantly – I am feeling how she is feeling at this moment, "now". A sickness rises at my sheer horror – this awful affliction.

_**What is there left?**_

A sharp cramp hits me in the stomach, I feel pain again.

_**Fear so powerful it overtakes itself and becomes nothing.**_

My stomach clenches and a searing rush of fluid rises to my neck.

_**A love so beautifully addictive, it has annihilated your ability to live without it.**_

I am choking, suffocating with the intensity of the emotion.

I am at the whim of Vastra's mind.

_**A lover so precious, she has killed you, and you, her.**_

I close my eyes…and feel the ground beneath me, as the last slither of emotion filters through.

_**Hope. **_


	7. Home

So, dear reader, I find myself alive again, and just as well or how could I have told you this story otherwise?

Most people can't tell you they've come back from the dead; even less can say that they have done it more than once. But here I am!

My adventures with Vastra and Strax have only really just got going, but I feel as though I have been through enough strife to last a lifetime! But would I change a thing? Absolutely frigging not!

Now, I know what you're thinking – what happened next Jenny? Was you not mad at Vastra for keeping you half-alive like that? Well I can give you a short answer for both, and a long answer for both.

Short answers:

I came back to life.

No.

And here's your long answers…

* * *

It all eventually came out one day, when me and Vastra were lying in bed. Silly old creature that she is, she probably was convinced she had been being subtle with me – but her feelings had been loud in her actions and in her face ever since Trenzalore. All that darn week she had either been avoiding me, starting at me, or looking like she was about to burst into tears. At one point I had even began to think that she must be angry at me; keeping away from me like the plague she was! But when I confronted her about it all she did was apologise and skulk away. I would have preferred if she had blown up at me, at least then we could have solved it! Vastra was usually so direct and clear about her feelings, having her in this confused state was unbearable. If it went on a day longer I was going to go spare I tell you! I missed how she usually was; sharp, brilliant, the only thing in the room you could notice if she was present…not some meek, ghost-like presence.

I knew I had to catch her off guard if I wanted her to talk about what happened, which isn't easy with Vastra, as she is always constantly aware and alert. My fault for choosing such an intelligent wife! Pretty sure my Father never had that problem…

I figured that the easiest way of doing this was going to be in bed; she would be off-guard, sleepy, and I would be able to use my 'womanly charms' to my advantage. "Distraction techniques" Vastra would call it; I'd settle for just getting my bloody wife back! Trouble was, she was often up before me these days; pacing around or sat in the room watching me.

But then one day, the perfect moment came about all by itself. I'm still proud of how I handled it to this day – common old me, being tactful and decisive…

Vastra were lying back in bed after, well… a 'moment' shall we say – something that had become rare in the past week, much to my annoyance. I had fallen back asleep, and probably would have stayed that way were it not for her stroking my breastbone.

"Ventricular fibrillation…" she murmured to herself. It wasn't exactly what I had been hoping to hear, but oh well!

"What you 'arping on about now?" I grumbled back, only allowing myself to be half-annoyed, as I did like what she was doing with her finger.

"Just the mechanism, by which you were almost eradicated…" charming, I thought. But this was a good sign, as she was bringing the topic up by herself for once. But she was only referring to half the tragedy, the 'easy' bit, if you like. We had talked about what happened a ridiculous amount of time – I had suffered from several fits of anxiety, breakdowns, and general flashbacks. It had been hard on her, I knew, but she allowed me to talk, and cared for me tirelessly. But not _once_ had she told me how she had felt that day, what it had been like for _her_. I, of course, already had an inkling what about her emotions on Trenzalore had been like, as I had seemingly been inside her head for a brief amount of time when I died for the second time – and I think she had half-guessed that is what had happened.

The thing was, she had kept me alive that day, even if the method weren't that pleasant. Her sheer stubbornness had stopped me from fading completely during the Great Intelligence's attack. I was grateful for that, for not being returned to the same cold nothingness that the Whispermen sent me to. But if I told her all that and confirmed what she already suspected, all she would hear was that she had hurt me, and then she would not be able to forgive herself, I was sure of it. I was also convinced that her fear of hearing what she believed to have happened to be true was what had been holding her tongue this whole time after the incident. But silence would send her to the madhouse soon if I didn't do something about it.

"…thankfully a relatively simple thing to reverse" she continued, spreading her hand across my chest. I continued to muse on how to bring the subject up. As ever, I settled on the direct approach.

I picked up Vastra's hand and kissed her cool scales, and decided, in that moment, to act.

"You think too much" I spoke, stating the bleeding obvious. I glanced at Vastra; she didn't look bleary eyed at all, more like she had been awake for a while (where had all these detective skills come from all of a sudden?!), "How long you bin watchin' me?" I asked her, I ventured it had been a while.

Vastra flushed green in embarrassment, her greatest tell, and I knew that I had struck gold. Taking advantage of her startled state, I pushed further.

"I know you ain't right love, even if you pretend you are"

Vastra started to look quite plainly uncomfortable; I'd hit a chord alright! But Vastra never gives in easily, and she was making no exceptions today.

"It was all dealt with…" Vastra gulped visibly, clearly losing her composure (very uncharacteristic of her), "Easy, really, medically explained…" she almost sounded happy, as if she were forcing herself to sound that way. I clearly had her on the ropes, "No need to have panicked, no need to even think about it anymore, foolish reptile that I am! You're right; thinking too much, that was it! I mean for goodness' sake it was just a heartbeat! I-"

I let go of her hand and placed the final blow to her nerves delicately on her lips, in the form of a single finger. She instantly fell silent.

"I _could_ believe that" I spoke, carefully choosing my words, "I that is _all_ that 'appened"

With that sentence, I saw that I had gained control of the conversation. Vastra's eyes were watering, and much as I didn't want to make her cry, it was so much better than the neutral expressions I had been getting recently. Buoyed by my initial success, I pulled her further in.

"My 'eart didn't just stop beating Vastra. That's just the only part you can understand"

A single tear ran down Vastra's face as I felt her shiver under the covers. My resolve was close to breaking at seeing her so pained, but I had to complete this labour for both of us. I needed _our_ normal back, not this half-life of walking on eggshells.

"You can't control everything love-"

"I can!" Vastra snapped, her thin layer of control suddenly surrendering. Good God it were wonderful to see some fire from her again! But she did not need it from me in return; she needed me at my most wifely. I gently stroked my hand around her chin, and teased it round to face me. My heart pulled in agony to see her so hurt, but she needed my strength now. Goodness she had given me so much of hers; I dare say she had none left. I offered her a sympathetic smile, close to tears myself.

"Talk to me" I spoke, giving her simple commands, uncomplicated requests, "What happened when…" I stopped as the moment began to sneak back into my mind; the feeling of a life and death purgatory, of being kept alive only by the thread of your lover's mind. I carefully re-gained my composure, and went on, "When our history…changed"

"You mean when you were erased from time" Vastra replied flatly, factually, so quietly I almost had to strain to hear her. I flinched at the words, to say it so coldly was more than I expected of her, but the resignation in her voice told me she would finally speak to me about it. Even I wouldn't have put it that bluntly, and I could see a touch of guilt taint Vastra's eyes.

"I…" she began, and I instinctively moved closer to her, to calm her nerves and reassure her, "I started to have trouble remembering things"

I hadn't expected her to say that, so it took me by surprise. I just assumed that she has fought back the whole time; weakness was not something that I naturally associated to Vastra after all! Also, after we had been reunited, she had been at pains to let me know that she hadn't forgotten me; it was one of the first things that she said.

"But you told me, on the day, that you didn't forget me" I questioned, hoping that it would lead to more details. Vastra's body tensed as her face shifted to look sadder and more uncomfortable. I knew, then, that this was the point she had been holding back from me.

"I didn't" Vastra sighed and cast her eyes from me almost shamefully, "I fought it – the change in my past. I refused to accept it"

I gasped; everything I had suspected had come true. Vastra had defied time, logic, reason…for me. My heart swelled with the greatest love and pride that I have ever felt, my word did I love that extraordinary woman!

"What?!" I breathed, wanting to know how on earth she had achieved such an impossible feat.

"It was like a chisel…" Vastra began, barely stopping herself from breaking down, "Like a chisel on stone…chipping pieces away" Everything she was saying matched up to my experience on the day, it was just like the first few moments when I had disappeared under that sky of fading stars; memories being eaten away like clothes by tiny, persistent moths. "Jenny…" Vastra placed a hand over my own, and I felt a quickening in my breast, something that Vastra never fails to awaken in me when she touches me, "You didn't exist. Nothing we ever did together had happened"

It was at this point that I realised what it was I needed to do. My sensible, logical, proactive wife was simply not herself. It was if some negative, simple demon had got into her and turned off all the lights. I had to appeal to her true self, get her to think again, as she normally would; and the best way to bring out the best in Vastra was to challenge her, to ask her questions. I must say, I am still pleased with myself to this day over how well I understand her, and especially how well I gauged her that very day.

"What do you mean?" I asked, squeezing her hand back to remind her of my support, "Vastra, 'ow could we have even b'in there if those things didn't 'appen?"

Even I could just about get my head around all the contradictions, which proved to me just how much Vastra wasn't using that big brain of hers, as if I could get it – she should be able to in her sleep! She was much more experienced than me when it came to space, and time, and all that lark. Simple me could understand that what happened was a circular event; like the chicken and the egg, one can't come to be without the other. Yes the events were taken back, but if they hadn't occurred, then nobody ever could have taken them back. Don't you dare try to ask me how it works, cause I haven't got the faintest idea! I just knew it weren't as simple as she was putting it, and so did she, deep down.

"It was a paradox…" Vastra began, managing to sum the situation up in four words, when (as you could see) I could just about explain it in a paragraph.

"Exactly!" I lunged at the poor woman, grabbing her with my free hand so that we were face to face, "If it was so clear-cut, so inevitable, then how were you able to defy it?!"

Immediately Vastra changed the subject, unable to answer my question now that I had managed to get her to contradict herself.

"But I may have caused you more suffering by aggravating the contradiction!" Vastra almost screamed, her voice strained by the power of the emotion laying in the words. This was what was _really_ bothering her. She had thrown off all pretence of not understanding the situation, a simple face to protect herself, I ventured. She understood far more about the situation than she cared to admit, that was the problem. Worst of all she had started to blame herself for it.

It was my job to put an end to it.

"I don't care" I replied, simply and firmly to avoid misinterpretation, "I'm proud of you"

She didn't need to know what I had seen, or how I had possibly been inside her memories. I had never told her about that part, for fear it would only make things more unbearable for her. I had told her about the dark place, about my fading and coming back to life, and how it felt to be neither dead nor alive, but how I had dipped in and out of her mind? How could I possibly tell her without devastating her? It would be unavoidable proof to her that she had helped suspend me in that dreadful state, and she would never listen if I tried to tell her that I was glad for it. So, I held it back. You may think it wrong of me, but no good could have come from telling her. Besides, what if I had only made up my being in her mind? As sure as I was of the realness and reality of what had happened, there was always a chance it had been only in imagination.

Vastra again changed the subject, once more unable to provide a response. Each barrier was falling every time she failed to defeat my defiant answers. It was working.

"But in that reality…Jenny I never saved you!" Vastra was speaking so intensely, she almost startled me, "I walked on by!"

For a moment I wondered if she had seen what had happened in our alternate reality, and had remembered it. If so, this was going to take a lot longer than I expected because Vastra would have evidence to back her ideas. But I had a notion that she was just guessing, as she did not seem sure of her own opinions (Vastra has an air of near smugness when she knows she is right about something, which is most of the time). Besides that, I had the fact that I (as I told you in the last chapter) had managed to forget what had happened. Seeing as though _I_ was the one that had died, I would be a bit hacked off if Vastra remembered it, and I didn't! Bloody hell that wouldn't be fair would it?

"And you know that 'ow?!" I asked her, and in her retreat I saw she was just bluffing, "Vastra, for all you know I might have run away from you, or never come within a mile of you, or maybe you never came across me!"

All those options were dreadful to me, and to speak them almost made me feel sick. A life without Madame Vastra…I'm not sure that it ever could have been as happy as the one with her. I'm not daft enough to say I'd prefer death – you only get one life, as they say (or three, if you're me apparently), but I can't say living without her would be enough to make me feel alive.

"But what are the chances of that?!" Vastra replied, fighting back even now (she never did let up easy), "Maybe I attacked you Jenny, for all we know!"

It sounds silly, but out of all the options, I hoped that one wasn't true the most. It was almost unbearable to create the image of it happening. I knew I had to shake her out of this; we could go at this forever if we wanted to, making up stories about what may have happened to me! To be blunt with you, spending the day inventing ways to kill me didn't sound like much of a game to me.

"Maybe!" I conceded, grasping her even tighter, "For God's sake we could spend all day thinking up different endings and not one of them may be correct!"

I let go of her hands and spread them across her handsome jawline instead, holding her face tenderly. How I adored that face…I just wanted it to stop looking careworn all the time.

"The truth is…I don't remember what happened. Unlike you, when I came back…I let myself forget it"

I am speaking of my death, of course.

"You mean when you came back…you knew-"

"It was like a dream" I cut her off, just before she could get started again, "I knew what 'appened as I came back, but then I felt it deliberately fading…and I just let it go. Some things aren't worth saving. Vastra dear…" I kissed her on her scaly forehead, and felt a jolt of affection almost well me up, "You didn't abandon me when I didn't exist. I don't know what more you think you could have done"

She was close to tears – the shimmer in her eyes was unmistakable. It was almost painful for me not to start crying myself now, almost as if the link that had allowed me to see her memories still existed like strings between us.

"I didn't like who I was before I met you" Vastra admits, and I felt my poor heart almost shatter with all the vulnerability and self-hate laden in that sentence. It were like a great lion looking in the mirror and seeing a tiny kitten instead. There was a lot of work to be done bringing back my Vastra to where she was before, but I was in it for better or worse (being married and all).

"Then let's be glad you did" I wiped a tear from Vastra's face, wishing I could take away the hurt the Great Intelligence had brought out in her, "Even when technically you didn't" I almost laughed at how silly it sounded, despite the situation, but it didn't seem appropriate.

"If anything happened to you again Jenny, it would break me"

That, I already knew.

"Well then…" I smiled, daring to try to cheer her up, "Best keep a _very_ close eye on me then…" I winked and drew her cool body close to me as possible. Her muscles relaxed at the contact, and I sensed my duties as a wife to calm her from this hysteria were complete, for now.

"I love you" she whispered, returning the embrace, and my soul soared like the flight of a great bird to hear her speak those simple, positive words.

"I love you too….soft old thing" I teased, smiling at my cheek.

And there we stayed, holding on to each other as if we should die if we let go. There would be a time to talk about what had happened in more detail, but for now, all was well.

* * *

So that is my story – a brief history of the life of Jenny Flint, and it is only just the introduction! I've stared death in the face twice and turned him down, run away from home to fall in love with a beautiful lizard warrior, and learned to fight like an ancient warrior. Heaven's above I know there will always be trouble for me and Vastra (Strax aswell); our adventures mean danger, daring, life-threatening situations, different worlds, different creatures…but would I change it for the world?

You bet I bloody well wouldn't!


End file.
